INVISIBLE
by Spense
Summary: Pre-movie verse: Adjustments have to be made when Grandma Ruth passes away, and grief can take many forms. Alan is 10 in this story.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:** This is going to be a very long story, and as always, will tend to build slowly. Alan is 10 in this story, with movie verse age separations._

_Thanks to SubRosa7 for letting me bounce ideas off of her. I can write little kids, teenagers and adults just fine. But 10 year olds? Not so much. This was a stretch for me, and she really helped me make sure that behavior was age appropriate._

_The story hook of Alan living with his grandmother until he is 10 came from TBMom's story 'Stroke', and is used with her permission. Although ages, situations, etc. are significantly different, that original idea was hers. In addition, also used from that story is Alan's electronic locks and security systems that he's designed, and the company that his grandmother helped him set up. This will come into play later in the story. Any of the additional characters outside of canon, including Anne Marie Watkins, are mine._

_Don't own, don't sue, etc._

**INVISIBLE**

**By Spense**

**Chapter One**

Ten year old Alan Tracy lay on his side on the bed in the dark room, gazing out the window into the dark night. It was late. Probably just after 1am, if he cared to look. Not that he did. He had decided that this was the longest night of his whole life. And absolutely the worst.

Grandma Ruth was dead. He still couldn't quite comprehend that. She'd had a heart attack that afternoon as they were talking after school. Alan had lived with her for as long as he could remember. He knew that he'd lived with his dad and mom and brothers until he was three. He remembered only little bits of that. Mom's voice, and her laugh. Dad's laugh. Then white. White snow, white walls, cold, more white. The avalanche that had killed his mother, and left him badly hurt. Then he remember lots more white walls after that. The hospital. He didn't like remembering that. Scotty was there all the time. And Grandma. But not Daddy. At least, not that often.

The whole family had moved in with Grandma after that. Alan and his brothers that is. He knew his father was there sometimes, but not much. Not until later. He'd missed his mom and dad, but he loved the farm, and Grandma and Scott made sure he was safe and that nightmares didn't bother him.

Then his Dad was back more often. That was a fun time. It was all of them, although Dad was at work a lot. And then his Dad bought an island. A real island, just for the family. And it was decided that Gordon and Virgil would go to boarding school. Since they were just starting middle school and high school respectively, it made sense. John was going to start college, and Scotty was going to quit the Air Force and go to the island. And Alan was to stay with Grandma, and go to the local school.

Alan missed his brothers, but he loved the farm, and he loved Grandma, so that was all okay, as far as he was concerned. So he stayed home, where everything was normal and familiar. He and Grandma went to the island every summer for a vacation, and he saw his family on holidays. Whichever members could make it out, that was. Very seldom could they all get together unless they were on the island.

Although Alan enjoyed seeing his brothers and father, his normal life was just he and Grandma. He liked it there on the Kansas farm when his dad had grown up. And honestly, Alan didn't really remember ever living anywhere else.

But now, everything was changing. It had started late that afternoon when Grandma was sitting knitting, and listening to him talk about the day, and especially, the track team he got to join at the local athletic club. One of his first practices had been that day, and he was full of the news. She'd suddenly gasped, and dropped her knitting. Then calmly, she'd told Alan to call 911.

The men had come, and they'd let him ride in the front of the ambulance. Then he'd had to wait in a little room for a really long time, until finally, he'd been able to see her. She'd told him to be brave, and that she loved him. Then he'd waited some more in the room, and they told him that she had died.

Alan was having a very hard time grasping that he wouldn't see her again. That really didn't seem to be possible. He just kept waiting for her to come out from one of the swinging doors, and they'd go home. But no. It just wasn't going to happen.

He'd been told that his father was on the way to 'make arrangements' and to pick him up. They would keep him here at the hospital until he came, and they gotten him some dinner, and let him watch TV, then put him to bed. Now he was just waiting.

Alan felt frozen. Things were going to change. This time, he was leaving all his friends, and he was going to the island to live. And Alan really wasn't sure what to think about that.

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to voices, and a sliver of light from the doorway. He'd turned over at some point, because now he was facing the door. His father's bass rumble was clear, and other deep voices, he didn't recognize. The door opened wider, and he could see the silhouettes of a group of men.

"Thank you, Dr. Carver," the man in front was saying.

That was his father. But he seemed bigger than Alan remembered.

They were all shaking hands.

The doctor was acknowledging the other men. "Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon. I'm sorry to meet you under these circumstances."

Alan went cold. These were men. They weren't his brothers. True, he hadn't really seen much of them in a couple of years. But they couldn't have changed this much in just a couple of years! Could they? He'd talked to them on the vid-phone, but . . .

Alan realized, heart sinking, that they had all grown up. Except him. And he was going to have to go back to Tracy Island with a family that was essentially made up of strangers.

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan sat in the corner of the living area of the large hotel suite his father had taken in Kansas City. Pulling his feet up onto the chair, he wrapped his arms around his knees, and silently watched the activity going on around him. They were high up, on the top floor, in the penthouse, and had come here straight from the hospital last night (this morning?). Anyway, really, really late.

He wasn't sure why they hadn't gone back to the house – it had been lots closer, but they were here in the hotel, a good hour and a half away from the town where members of the Tracy family had lived for over 150 years. But, he'd woken up in a strange room, and when he wandered out, it was very late morning, and the living area was buzzing with activity.

Jeff had said something to the person he was talking to on the phone, then smiled at Alan, and told him to get himself some breakfast. It was set out on a side table. Then he was back into his conversation.

Alan had done so, then had retreated to the out of the way, corner chair he was in now. He wasn't really hungry, so he just picked at his food, and finally set it aside. He'd been sitting here a while now, taking it in, and the activity hadn't slowed much.

Jeff and Scott were on respective couches across a coffee table from each other. Both had been on the phone all morning, as long as Alan could tell, and both had laptops in front of them. This was normal, for Jeff at least, in Alan's opinion. But Scott? When had Scott become so immersed in the business of Tracy Enterprises? Anytime the youngest Tracy had seen Scott, he'd been the cool older brother who knew just what to do if Alan was scared, or had a nightmare, or was just bored.

When they'd all been living together on the farm, before his dad had bought Tracy Island, Alan had always gone to Scott before approaching his father. Scott was always nice, and never too busy for him. But now, he was grown up. And seemed just like Dad – always busy with something to do with the business. To Alan, that was certainly not an improvement.

Outside, the private infinity pool for the penthouse suite was in use. Gordon was swimming laps. Alan knew Gordon was going to try out for the Olympics, and was being tutored at home for his classes, so he could concentrate on swimming. Alan thought that was incredibly cool, and admired Gordon. Even if he could be a real pain at times. But it did mean that he couldn't go swimming. Usually, Gordon was always up to take a dip in the pool, but he was too serious now to goof around with.

Virgil and John had come into the room just after Alan had sat down, adding more noise to the chaos. Virgil came in through the door sideways, overloaded with shopping bags. "Got the clothes for the Sprout," he declared, as he dropped the bags onto the nearest chair in relief. Jeff nodded acknowledgement, but didn't stop his conversation.

John was still on his phone as he came in sedately behind his brother. He smiled a greeting at Alan, and went up to his father, who actually put his own call on hold for a moment.

Alan heard snippets of conversation. Something about funeral services, and arrangements, and tomorrow. Jeff nodded, said something to John in return that Alan couldn't catch, then went back to his call. John said something to his own phone, and hung up. Turning he came over to Alan.

"Hey, Sprout," he smiled, tousling Alan's hair. Alan scowled and moved his head out of the way. He really hated that. John just grinned. "How are you? Slept long enough, huh?"

Alan just shrugged. How was he? He didn't really know. Grandma was gone. And everybody else just seemed busy, and like they were feeling normal. He didn't feel like everything was normal.

John smiled at him kindly, seeming to understand. As he opened his mouth to say something, Virgil charged over to Alan's corner, holding a couple of the bags. "Got you some new clothes, Sprout," he announced, as he dropped them next to Alan. "For the island. Bet you only have winter clothes that fit, so Dad sent me out for shorts and stuff."

"Virgil!" Jeff glared at his chestnut haired son, as he set down his phone. "Put them in the bedroom. It's crowded enough in here."

Virgil rolled his eyes, once again picking up the bags, and headed for Alan's bedroom.

"John, could you please go to Alan's school?" Jeff continued. "Pick up the rest of his assignments for the remaining term. He can work online for the rest of the school year."

"Dad, why don't I go. I've been talking to his teachers, along with Grandma, for the last few years," Scott said, looking up from his laptop. "They know me."

Jeff shook his, typing something into his computer, and picking up his phone again. "No, I need you to coordinate with Anderson for the meeting this afternoon. We'll have to attend remotely, but that should be the only change." Jeff grimaced. "This couldn't have happened at a worse time, with the meeting already scheduled. It's too important to cancel. No, John can go."

"Okay," Scott answered with a shrug, then looked back across the table at his father. "Oh, and we need Virgil to get back with Brains on that glitch on . . ." He broke off suddenly.

But Jeff just nodded. "He can call from the other room."

John just acknowledged his father with a little wave, and picked up his keys, clearly not bothered a bit by the madness. He turned back to his youngest brother. "Sorry, Allie. Gotta go. See you in a little bit okay? We'll be heading back to the island after the service, probably tomorrow or the next day, so it's going to be a little crazy. There's a lot to do here, and Dad and Scott are closing a huge deal today and tomorrow. I'm going to stay on the island instead of going back to the lab for a while, so we can catch up then."

Alan just nodded, somewhat overwhelmed. Where had his family gone? These weren't the brothers he saw on vacations or holidays. Then, they always had time to do something together. They went to movies, or the park, or something. If this is what they were all like when they were working, this was going to be worse than he thought. As he watched John leave, he wished, for the umpteenth time, that Grandma was here.

TB TB TB TB TB

Jefferson Tracy felt numb. The last few days had been rough. Getting the call from the hospital that his mother had had a heart attack, and then had passed away. That was tough enough to get a handle on, but then to think of Alan there at the hospital, waiting. He didn't want his son to stay with friends in town, he needed to get to him himself. This was going to be hard on his youngest, that was for sure. Telling his older sons, shutting down IR for a few days, getting John back dirtside, and getting on the plane for Kansas. It was all a whirl.

Picking up Alan, planning a funeral, greeting old friends and accepting their condolences, all while trying to keep up with the needs of Tracy Enterprises. As always, Scott was there, capably shouldering much of the load for his father. Whether it was watching Alan, answering emails or what have you, Scott was there. And Jeff was grateful. Everything just seemed like a blur. There had just been so much to do. He had just put his emotions on the back burner, and concentrated on getting everything taken care of.

Now they were through the funeral, and just greeting Ruth's friends and mourners back at the house. It still just seemed so impossible to comprehend. His mother, Ruth Tracy, was dead. That indomitable force, seemingly indestructible, was gone. He was just frozen at the thought of it. She'd always been the solid bulwark behind him, encouraging him to (literally) reach for the stars. She'd also been the mainstay for his children after Lucy died. It just didn't seem right to have both of them gone. He knew it was going to hit him soon, and hit him hard. But right now he could just concentrate on the many details of the arrangements that needed to be made.

The thought of children made him look around for Alan. At 10, he was still so much a child in comparison to the rest of his sons. Even Gordon, having just turned 17, had a greater maturity about him. But then again, that came from having weathered the storm of his mother's death, which really, Alan had been too young to remember. And from being in on the onset of International Rescue, which again, Alan had been too young to be involved with.

Jeff and Ruth had both been in strong agreement on that. Alan needed a real childhood, just like his brothers had had. Running around with friends, riding bikes, going to school, and all the interaction that could be had in a small Kansas town. Since his spacewalk, and the growth of Tracy Enterprises, privacy was getting harder, and harder to come by. Alan needed the normalcy while he could get it.

So when Jeff had purchased the island, and began to gear up International Rescue, it was actually good timing. Alan was just starting first grade, and Gordon was going to start middle school. Instead, Gordon went to a boarding school which specialized in young athletes, as their family fish was showing signs of being an elite swimmer. Virgil, starting high school, also switched to a boarding school, this one specializing in both strong math academics as well as fine arts. It was the right time to make those changes, especially with the island as their new home, even as it made the most sense for Alan to stay with Ruth. As hard as it had been on Jeff to leave his three youngest children in the States, it had worked out well, and was clearly for the best.

Alan stayed in essentially the only home he could really remember, as they had returned to the farm house with Lucy had died. Jeff's growing company had made the move to New York, and he shuttled back and forth when he could, and Ruth and Scott took care of the children. For the four older boys, it was just an 18 month blip. For Alan, it was his first real memories. And his father had been absent for much of it. Jeff swallowed hard once again. He still missed Lucy so much. But he was so incredibly grateful to both Ruth and Scott for keeping his family together during that time. He'd really let everyone down.

Jeff wandered away from the crowd in the house for a moment, needing a moment alone. He moved to a solitary spot, out of the way. The guests who had come out to the farmhouse following the funeral were beginning to disperse. Scott, Virgil and Gordon, were talking to old friends, and catching up, and seeing people out. Jeff spotted Alan out the dining room window of his mother's house, his childhood home. Alan was on the swingset, John with him. His two blond sons. They were just sitting on the stationary swings, talking quietly together.

Alan had been so quiet these last few days. The exuberant little boy Jeff was used to had not been in evidence since he'd arrived. Not surprisingly, he supposed. Ruth's passing had been hard on him. Jeff felt a pang. Poor Alan. But this too would pass. Children were resilient, and a change of scene would be good for him.

As always, there was good and bad in each situation. Alan would finally be home with his whole family on a permanent basis. No matter how much Jeff had wanted Alan with him, he would have been hard pressed to uproot the child for any other reason than Ruth's passing. Alan was so well adjusted, and clearly liked his life here with Ruth. But now? He was going to finally take Alan home. It was February, and he could home school for the rest of the year, complete his assignments with his Kansas school online. They'd figure out next year at a later time.

With the loss of Ruth Tracy, Jeff just felt the urge to gather his family around him, and keep them close. Alan still didn't know about IR, and Jeff wasn't ready to tell him. His other son's were in full agreement. Alan was too young, and let him grow up some before that was dumped on him. 'Operation Coverup', as Gordon had dubbed it, worked well enough when Alan had been visiting the island. No reason to think it couldn't still work.

Looking back outside, he saw John walking back toward the house, and Ruth's attorney, Brad McCutcheon, a local man, sitting next to Alan on John's recently vacated swing. Knowing the Brad had been a close friend of Ruth's, it was kind, and not all that surprising, to see him checking on Alan.

Satisfied that his youngest son was occupied, Jeff saw the emptying room, and through the front window, the horde of reporters that were being kept away by the sheriff's office. Now that the funeral was over, it was time to get back to the island. They wouldn't be able to hold the media off forever, and Jeff wanted Alan out of range. They'd managed to keep him out of any articles, and restrict any pictures from being used, and Jeff wanted to keep it that way. But the longer they stayed, sooner or later it would be inevitable that one of them would manage to get that picture of Alan. And Jeff wanted to avoid that as long as possible.

Moving back into the kitchen, Jeff glanced once more at the emptying room, and pulled out his phone. He may as well begin making the arrangements to store the house's contents, and get the farm on the market. The sooner those tasks were done, the sooner they'd be back home on the island.


	2. Chapter 2

**INIVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER TWO**

Alan woke up, once again unsettled, and not knowing where he was. That seemed to be the pattern of the last few days. Listening, he recognized the sounds of the island, and realized that he was back on Tracy Island. He didn't remember getting here. Throwing back the covers, he quickly got dressed and made his way out of his room.

It was clearly mid-morning, the sun was bright, and the huge house was quiet. Alan marveled again at how big the villa was. John had explained on one visit that it was built big and open to allow for air flow, and to keep it as cool as possible. Alan had pointed out that they had air conditioning, so it really didn't need to be so big. John had just laughed and explained about the differences in architecture in hot weather climates. Alan wasn't sure he really understood, but John did, and if it made sense to Johnny, then it was fine by him.

At one point, Alan had to backtrack as he got turned around, and ended up in the back of the house by the large, sprawling gym. Sighing, he got himself righted, and made his way to the lounge. It had been a while since he'd been at the island.

Finally, he made it to the lounge, and found Onaha in the process of cleaning up the area after the morning rush, and the early preparations of the afternoon meal.

"Good morning, Alan!" Onaha was glad to see him. Alan spent a fair amount of time with them when he was on the island. He and their daughter, TinTin were very close in age. The two of them, and Brains' son, Fermat, tended to hang out down at the Beleghant's small house more often than not. That also helped keep International Rescue a secret from Alan. She wasn't quite sure how it would go now, but she'd certainly do her best to abide by Mr. Tracy's wishes in the matter.

Onaha and her husband, Kyrano, loved the Tracys as family, and the feeling was reciprocated. They'd been on the island from the time Jefferson Tracy had purchased it.

Alan gave a wan smile as he came into the lounge. Onaha thought he looked tired. No surprise there, she supposed. This was a huge upheaval for him, as well as just plain grief.

He sat down on a bar stool at the counter that separated the kitchen from the lounge. "Where is everybody?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Working," Onaha said, matter-of-factly, as she moved back to the kitchen to get him some breakfast. "Your father and Scott are on a conference call upstairs in the office, John is up in the round house working on his latest text book, Gordon is swimming, and Virgil is in one of the workshops with Brains." She stopped momentarily, looking thoughtful. "At least that's where they headed after breakfast, about, oh, four hours ago." Smiling again, she added, "Who knows where they are now."

Alan just nodded, unenthusiastically. Working. That was all any of them had done for the last three days. He was seeing a pattern here, and he didn't much like it much.

"What do you want to eat?" She asked him. "Lunch won't be until 1. So, pancakes?"

Shaking his head, Alan said, "Maybe just some cereal. Is TinTin back from Malyasia yet?"

"That's not enough food, Alan. How about something hot? And no, she won't be back until summer. Remember? She's staying with family January through June. She's coming back about the same time you were supposed to get out of school."

"Oh, that's right. And Fermat's at that special science school until June," Alan recalled, clearly disappointed.

"So, maybe eggs?" Onaha asked.

"I'm really not very hungry," Alan said, sliding off the stool. "I don't think I want anything."

She watched, concerned as he wandered aimlessly around the lounge, finally settling down to play a video game, without much interest. Onaha worried about him. This was going to be a big adjustment for all of the Tracys, and not only Alan. Ruth had been a pillar of strength for the whole family, and losing her was going to cause problems in ways most of them probably didn't even understand. The Tracy men were brilliant, but not always very in tune with emotions. This could get very bad.

Sighing, she poured a glass of milk to take to Alan. She could at least get that into him. She, Kyrano and Brains all were worried about the family. But they would help as much as they could, they had all agreed.

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan was beginning to hate waking up from a deep sleep. He never knew where he was, and this time, his heart was racing as well. It took him a moment to realize where he was. He was back on Tracy Island, in 'his' room. Or at least the room that he used when he was here on the island. Now, spending his second night on the island, and in the darkness, even the semi-familiar room looked abnormal and unfamiliar.

A low rumble caught his attention, and he shifted his eyes towards the floor to ceiling windows that lined one wall. The dark landscape outside looked surrealistic, the wind whipping the palm trees and other tropical vegetation up into a frenzy. The sense of movement in the unrelieved blackness was unnerving. The thunder built into a terrific crack, and Alan jumped. He wasn't a big fan of storms. But at least there weren't tornados here on the island. That was a plus.

As a flash of lightening lit up the sky, casting eerie shadows onto the wall, Alan realized that he had a massive headache. Looking at the bedside clock, he saw it was only a little after 11. Maybe somebody was still up, and he could get some aspirin.

Crawling over the huge bed, he made his way to the door, and was glad to see there were still some lights turned on low in the upstairs hallway. So somebody was still up. Another crash of thunder made him jump. This house was just so darn big! The Kansas farmhouse was cozier. Even his bedroom here in the villa could have fit all the bedrooms in the farm house inside it. He wasn't sure he was all that pleased with that fact. It just felt like you could get lost in here. Although the beach and the pools made up for a lot.

Head pounding, he blearily made his way down the various staircases, following the lights toward the lounge. He was relieved to hear voices as he silently made his way that direction. At the doorway, still back in the shadows, Alan paused.

His father, and all four of his brothers were gathered around one of the big tables, and they looked as though they were deep in serious conversation. Scott was bending over what looked like a map, and was muttering something about mines, and landslides. Jeff was there, arms crossed, looking down at the map, nodding at whatever Scott was saying. Even 17 year old Gordon was still up, and deeply involved, the serious look on his face making him look far less like the genial prankster Alan knew.

The scene just drove home how much of an outsider he was in his family. Oh, he knew they loved him. But they didn't know him. And he wasn't sure that they really wanted to. And he didn't know them at all anymore, either. And right now, they really just looked like strangers. When did that happen? While he was living with Grandma?

They always had fun together on holidays. Whether it was here (mostly here on the island), or in when a couple of them would stop by the Kansas house, everything had always seemed normal. He had talked to everybody lots on the vid phone, and to his Dad as well. So why did things feel different now. Because Grandma was gone?

Alan felt his head pound harder at that thought. He missed her. She had always been there, and was always good company. Now she was gone, and he was alone. Alone with these strangers that were his family, and didn't seem to have time for him. Anytime he'd previously visited, they had always done stuff with him, and he'd had Fermat and TinTin to play with, so there had been lots going on, and it had been a lot of fun. Now, though, everything felt so different.

Alan jumped slightly, when John suddenly banged his fist on the table, and pointed again to the map, snarling something. Alan couldn't make it out, but it sounded like 'accident waiting to happen'. John never lost his temper. That in itself was unsettling. Alan stepped back slightly, almost reflexively.

Jeff's face darkened slightly, and instead of reprimanding John, he seemed to agree with him. That small action undid Alan more than almost anything else. Jeff was always telling Alan to watch his temper, always admonishing all of his sons to develop self-control. The fact that he didn't do that to John, and seemed to treat him like an equal was almost too much. His brothers didn't seem like his brothers anymore. Alan stepped carefully back deeper into the shadows.

He'd go find Brains, and see if he had anything for his headache. Brains seemed to be the only familiar thing on the island right now. And the Beleghants. Alan decided that was by far the safer option than being caught out of bed right now. Silently, he made his way back up the stairs, staying carefully in the shadows, out of sight and earshot of the group of intimidating men grouped around the table.

Because he was so carefully concentrating on staying hidden, he missed the sudden swing of Virgil's attention towards the now dark and empty doorway.

Alan made his way down the long corridors, looking for the island's infirmary. It had never occurred to wonder why they had to have such a well stocked medical room, they just did. They were way out here in the middle of the ocean, so it made a kind of sense. But still, Auckland wasn't that far away. Shrugging, he dismissed the thought. If aspirin were to be found, this is where it would be. Everything just seemed to be so far away here, he thought as wearily trudged down the long hallway towards the bowels of the villa. And he was tired. And his head hurt. But he wasn't going to interrupt that pow-wow. No way. If he couldn't find anything in the med room, he'd go find Brains. Brains was always kind.

Finding the infirmary, Alan muttered 'finally,' and flipped on the light switch for the main office area. At that point another brilliant flash of light accompanied by a huge clap of thunder made him jump. Dragging a chair over to the glass fronted cabinets, Alan stood up on it, and began to rummage in them, but nothing looked right, or familiar. All kinds of long names, but nothing that said 'aspirin' or 'Tylenol'.

Beginning to feel desperate with the pounding in his head, the ongoing thunder, lightning and now, pounding rain, Alan felt near tears. This just shouldn't be this hard!

"Allie?" A voice said in his ear, making him jump a mile high, just as another crack of thunder together with a flash of lightening right over the island blew the lights out. "What are you doing in here?"

Alan was so startled, that he whirled. Adding the dizziness of the sudden movement to that of the pounding headache, he overbalanced the chair, and began to topple. He was caught before he could fall more than a couple of inches, as the chair completed its crash to the ground. Virgil was looking at him in concern as he shifted his hold to better support his little brother. "Alan! What's the matter?"

Alan was so relieved to not be on a pile on the floor mixed up with the chair, that he just wrapped his arms around Virgil's neck to steady himself.

"Headache," he muttered, closing his eyes and relaxing against his older brother. He was probably in trouble for any number of things, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He flinched and grabbed reflexively at the back of his brother's shirt as another crack of thunder pounded out of the now black room. Virgil's arm came reassuringly around his shoulders and squeezed in reassurance.

"Ah," Virgil said, in understanding. "Okay. But why didn't you come find one of us?" he asked, in some concern.

Alan just shook his head. He was too tired and his head hurt too much to try to explain.

Before Virgil could ask anything more, a flashlight beam came through the room. "Virgil?" Jeff Tracy's voice came out of the dark, commanding and in control, dispelling any lingering uncertainty from the dark and the noise. "What's going on?"

"Alan's got a headache. He was down here looking for aspirin," Virgil said, turning towards the beam of light, still holding firmly to his little brother.

Jeff could think of many ways to respond to that, including asking why his 10 year old son was down in the infirmary looking for medication, all by himself, but stopped. Too much had happened in the last few days, and too many changes had occurred for all of them. Maybe his mother had allowed it, but Jeff wasn't comfortable with a 10 year old medicating himself.

How much he didn't know about his youngest son, Jeff thought sadly. All the things Ruth had known about Alan that his father did not. His favorite food, what books he liked, his favorite color. All the little things. And now Ruth was gone. What a blow. For all of them. They all needed to recover from that before anything else. There would be time enough to establish some ground rules with Alan later on.

So, in the end, all Jeff did was step up, and lay a hand on his youngest sons forehead. Alan didn't even open his eyes. "Feel's cool enough," he murmured, looking at the family's medic.

Virgil nodded.

"Stress?" Jeff asked softly.

"Possibly. Wouldn't be surprised. Problem is, I don't think we have any children's Tylenol on hand," Virgil answered uneasily, unconsciously rubbing his brother's back lightly.

Jeff sighed. One more of a million things they had to get organized now that they were changing dynamics once again. But still, why didn't they have that? Alan was here often enough.

Running his hand absently through his hair, Jeff thought a moment. "I'm sure Brains has some. I'll check with him. Why don't you put Alan to bed, and I'll meet you in his room. Take the flashlight," he said, as he handed it to his older son.

"What about you?" Virgil asked, turning for the door.

"I'll grab one of the flashlights down here. Scott's getting the generator set up and running, so we should have lights shortly. But frankly, it's late, and we should all be heading for bed anyway."

He looked again at Alan's pale face on Virgil's shoulder. He eyes were closed and the flesh underneath looked almost black in the lack of light. Jeff couldn't help himself, he reached out and rubbed Alan's shoulder in comfort. For Alan or himself, he wasn't quite sure. "Okay, Allie?"

Alan opened his eyes enough to find his father, and nodded briefly, before shutting them again.

Virgil smiled lightly. "He's just about out already."

Jeff nodded. "Let's get going. I'll see you in a few moments."

As they split off for their various errands, Virgil thought again to their conversation in the lounge. They'd had a pretty messy rescue in Indonesia's Borneo region just before they'd gotten word that Ruth had passed away. Virgil stifled a pang at that. He missed the feisty old woman deeply already. He returned his thoughts to the matter at hand. They'd just gotten word that the mine owner had reopened the site already, without doing any safety renovations. The next accident would be worse, and there would be one, no doubt. The place was riddled with old tunnels and walls that would come down with a light breeze. They hadn't lost anybody, but if they were called out again, nobody believed that they'd be so lucky, and more than likely, they themselves might likely be a casualty. He sighed to himself. So just how did they handle that? Refuse to go out again? Threaten the mine owner? None of them particularly liked risking their lives, but to risk them to benefit somebody who was only out for gain as the expense of his workers? One of the many knotty problems the IR dealt with, Virgil mused, as he reached Alan's room.

Juggling the flashlight, he moved through the pale glow to his little brother's room and laid him down on the bed.

Alan gave a low moan, pain lines on his forehead, as he opened his eyes.

Virgil smiled at him as he pulled up the covers and settled them over his brother. "Dad will be up here in a moment with something for your headache."

Alan just nodded miserably, and shut his eyes again as Virgil sat down on the bed next to him.

A few moments later Jeff came into the room. "Brains had some," He said, smiling at both of his sons as he measured out the dose. Once Alan had taken the aspirin, and was dropping off, Jeff and Virgil moved over to the window.

The rain was still coming down, and the wind was high, but time between the lightning and thunder was growing greater as the storm moved away.

"How did you know Alan was in the infirmary?" Jeff asked quietly.

Virgil shrugged. "I thought I saw him down by the lounge. I wasn't sure, so I went to check. He wasn't in his room, or the bathroom, so that made the most sense."

Jeff just nodded thoughtfully again. "Think he's okay?"

Virgil nodded. "I think so. I think you're right. Just stress. It's been a rotten week."

Clapping Virgil on the shoulder, Jeff gave a slight smile. "Okay. We should hit the sack as well." With a quick glance back at the sleeping Alan, they headed for the door, both wondering slightly why Alan hadn't come into the lounge. Any more discussion was cut short as the lights came back on, and Scott came up the stairs to check on them.


	3. Chapter 3

**INVISIBLE**

**Chapter 3**

**by Spense**

Alan was truly bored out of his mind. The pattern for the last few days had been exactly the same. Everybody else was at work. Gordon, who if he wasn't swimming, was helping Virgil on something engineering related. If he went to find them, he was greeted, then told he should probably be downstairs so he wasn't in the way.

Alan's fears from the morning after his grandmother died, of being in the way and not wanted, were clearly coming true. He hadn't realized how much of the time he'd spent on the island had been spent with Kyrano, Onaha, and TinTin Beleghant, as well as with Fermat. As he thought back, very little had been spent with his family, with the exception of Grandma.

It has always been better if his family visited Kansas. They had time to spend with him then. Even his Dad, who was the dictionary definition of work-a-holic, had more time then. Or maybe Grandma just made him. That was probably way more likely.

He spent a little time in his room, but everything there had been left from prior visits, and was really boring. Even the books were just little kid books. He read lots of chapter books now, and there weren't any around. He could only play so many video games, do jigsaw puzzles, or watch TV for so long. Besides, he got in trouble if he played too many video games. He tried working on the lock designs - he'd invented one, and Grandma had set up a company for him. Now he was trying to work on a third generation design, but he couldn't seem to concentrate.

Alan just couldn't believe that this was what his life would be like forever. At least it seemed that way, in his opinion. He couldn't even go down to the beach by himself. He'd been late for lunch yesterday (coming up the hill took longer than he'd thought. It was a long way!), and his Dad has freaked. He'd meant to leave a note, he really had. But he had no idea of where to leave it. And it didn't help that he'd forgotten sunscreen, so now he had a bad sunburn, too. So now he couldn't go off the villa grounds without somebody with him. That meant he couldn't even play outside in the jungle, or go down to the beach by himself. He wasn't sure why they thought he was such a baby. He'd gone off a lot on his own in Kansas. He'd just leave a note about where he was going, and when he'd be home, and that was that. He really didn't understand his Dad and brothers.

At least when Fermat and TinTin had been home, he had somebody to play with. But they wouldn't be back for months. Sighing, he picked up the game controller again.

TB TB TB TB TB

Onaha had taken to trying to be down around the lounge in the mornings and early afternoons when Alan was most likely to be there. She really didn't like how listless Alan was. He was a far cry from the boy she remembered. As she recalled, whenever he'd been here last, he'd always been moving at top speed. But now, he even looked apathetic when he was playing with the video games.

It didn't help that Jeff Tracy was handling the grief of losing his mother in his usual manner – burying himself in work. And he was keeping his elder sons busy as well. Between Tracy Enterprises, and the never ending maintenance on the Thunderbirds, they were all focused and occupied from dawn until dusk.

She pursed her lips as she cleaned the spotless counter, and looked unobtrusively at Alan. She really disagreed with Mr. Tracy's decision to not tell Alan about International Rescue. She and Kyrano had talked about it at length. But no matter how strongly they disagreed with the decision, there wasn't anything they could do about it. Alan was Mr. Tracy's son, and that was his wish. Unfortunately, right now, International Rescue, and Tracy Enterprises as well, although less so, were taking all the attention away that Alan desperately needed from his family right now. This was not going to end well, and she was concerned about the impact on the entire family.

She was torn about TinTin being gone. She missed her daughter, and TinTin and Alan were good friends. But the loss of Ruth Tracy was just starting to show the effect it was having on the Tracy family, and she was glad TinTin was out of the aftermath. Bad enough that Alan was going to be squarely in the center of it.

Her attention was caught by John Tracy, hovering discreetly in the doorway, out of sight of Alan. He mimed a Thunderbird in motion, and she nodded. Once he was sure she'd gotten his point, he disappeared upstairs towards Jefferson Tracy's office.

A rescue had been called in. Ah, well. She could help with this, and maybe give Alan a little attention while she was at it. Picking up the towels, she walked out of the kitchen and called to Alan. "Alan!"

When he looked up at her with a mild inquiring look she continued. "Could you come help me? I need to do laundry, and I need some help sorting and folding."

He shrugged, and got up listlessly and followed her. She smiled when he reached her. "Thank you. It's gotten a little away from me." Which was the truth. She was behind in getting everything done from the Tracy's quick trip to Kansas for the funeral.

"It's okay," Alan shrugged again. "One of my chores for Grandma was to help her with the laundry and fold the dry stuff."

It hit her again how young Alan was. The other Tracy boys, with the exception of Gordon, were all working now, and didn't help out like they had when they were children. Gordon's chores were on hold. He'd normally be at boarding school, but training for the Olympics was his first priority right now, so if he wasn't swimming per his coach's instructions, he was running, working out in the gym, or hiking.

Alan obviously had had chores at Ruth's, just like all of his brothers had when they were his age. Whether they had been with Ruth, or with Jeff. Neither believed in letting children be waited on. Clearly Jeff hadn't yet gotten back into the mindset of having a younger child around again. His single mindedness following his return from the funeral of his mother reminded her of some of the stories she'd heard about him after the loss of his wife. He wasn't as bad now, certainly, but he did tend to turn grief into work.

The laundry room at the Villa was at the back of the house, up against the cliff side on the lower level. Thus, it was more insulated against outside noise than just about any other place, with the exception of the Hanger level, which Alan was not aware of. This made it the perfect place to be when the Thunderbird One took off. That machine was not quiet.

There were three commercial washers, and three dryers. And usually these were always working. In addition to an ironing board, and two deep sinks, there were several tables piled high with dirty laundry. She hadn't been lying when she'd said she'd gotten behind. So she set Alan to sorting. The International Rescue laundry was in a separate laundry room down in the hanger level, so she wasn't worried about Alan seeing anything he shouldn't.

Interestingly enough, Alan perked up while they were working on the mounds of laundry. He didn't seem to mind the chores at all. The low, muffled, rumble from Thunderbird One taking off was easily explained as a brief thunder storm. They'd had a run of storms the last week, blowing in fast, and leaving just as quickly so that was plausible. And Alan had never really cared for thunder storms. Another reason she'd been sticking close by him.

They fell into an easy rhythm, with Onaha washing and ironing, and Alan sorting, shifting wash to the dryers, then folding the clean clothes when it was done. He tried to sort it by person, but he was having a hard time telling one from the other. His father and brothers all seemed to be about the same size now, with the exception of Gordon. Onaha told him not to worry about it. She'd figure it out, or let the guys take care of it.

Onaha asked him about Kansas, and what he'd been doing, and generally catching up. She was surprised at how talkative he was, and she enjoyed his company, and they passed several productive hours.

At one point, she heard Thunderbird One come back, but Alan didn't seem to notice. She was glad the rescue had only been a few hours. That was a good sign. At lunch time, they broke off, and headed back to the lounge for the midday meal. Watching carefully, she noted that everybody seemed to be fine, if a little quiet. After finishing, the afternoon settled into its normal pattern. Jeff and his son's, along with Kyrano and Brains would be debriefing. Alan went back to the couch, and turning on the TV, began to channel surf. He looked as uninterested as he had before, she noted with concern.

The next day, Alan asked if he could help her with anything. She was pleased that he did so, and made sure to include him with what she could. He was actually very good help. Kyrano recruited him to help with the garden as well, when he had simple tasks to do, like weeding and watering. Alan willingly helped. It gave him something to do.

One afternoon, a couple of days after the rescue, Alan was down helping Kyrano watering the herb garden. Jeff appeared at the gate, looking concerned.

"There you are, Alan! I was couldn't find you, and I got worried."

Alan had mixed feelings about that. He was glad his dad noticed him enough to know he was gone, but why would he be worried? It was an island! Where could he go to get into any trouble?

Kyrano looked up at his employer. "He's been assisting me with the garden. He's been a very good helper. He's also been helping Onaha with chores as well," he added with a smile, in his calm, unhurried voice.

Jeff grinned at his son, who looked pleased at Kyrano's praise.

"Good job, Alan." Then he looked back at Kyrano. "Well, thank you for keeping him occupied. If he's any trouble, just send him on up to the house."

Jeff looked at Alan once again, smiling. "See you at dinner."

Alan just nodded, cheerful expression dimming as his father left. He wasn't a bother to the Beleghant's. He was helping! His dad made it sound like they were having to babysit him.

When Alan looked up, Kyrano was looking at him, a serious expression on the quiet man's face. "Alan, you are never a bother. You are a great help, and you are welcome to come assist me at any time, always," he finished, a soft, genuine smile on his face. "I value your help."

Alan nodded, smiling back gratefully, and continued to water the leafing plants. He slowly relaxed. He really just didn't understand his father at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Please note: This story will be between 20-25 chapters at it's completion, depending on how I split things up. I did say it would be long . . .**

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Jeff looked up from his breakfast when his youngest son finally entered the room. He was happy to see a smile on the boy's face for a change. Alan had been so serious of late. Jeff had put the change down to grief. It nice to see that Alan may be emerging once again.

"Good morning. You're in a good mood today," Jeff smiled at his son, over the din of clattering silverware against plates as his elder sons finished up their meal.

Alan nodded as he slid into his chair. As Onaha slid a plate in front of him, Scott grinned a greeting at his youngest brother, then wiped his mouth with his napkin, and tossed it onto the table as he got up.

"Sorry, guys. Got to call New York before Murphy goes home. He needs an answer on the proposals ASAP."

Jeff frowned. "Why? I thought we had until Friday."

Scott shook his head, "nope. Time line got moved up."

Virgil chimed in, then, the normal morning chaos was well underway. Jeff quickly finished the last bite of his meal, got up. He accepted the fresh mug of coffee Onaha held out to him. "Oh, thank you!"

She just smiled at him knowingly. Good coffee was truly his weakness. As he shoved his chair back into the table with his hip, he smiled at Alan. "What are you up to today?"

Alan seemed to have reverted, looking solemnly at his plate, smile gone. He just shrugged. Jeff felt a pang. He really needed to spend some time with Alan. "If I can get away how about we spend some time down at the beach?"

Alan brightened at that. Jeff was glad to see it. Alan had not been happy when he was restricted to only going off the villa proper when somebody was with him. Jeff hadn't relented. He had the scare of his life a few days back when he couldn't find Alan. They'd all turned out to start a search, when Alan showed up on the beach path, looking confused at their panic. When asked, he said he went places all the time, and just left a note for his grandmother. He would have left one here, but he didn't know where to put it so they'd see it.

Jeff thought he'd lost more than a few years off his life that morning, and when he banded Alan from exploring or going to the beach without somebody with him, all of the other Tracy's agreed, telling Jeff just how frightened they'd been as well. Even Gordon, the one most likely to have chaffed at such a restriction, looked pale under his freckles, and was in firm agreement. The jungle wasn't Kansas, and the currents around the island were unpredictable.

Unsurprisingly, Alan was not happy, but he finally seemed to be coming out of his funk.

"When," Alan predictably demanded, clearly pleased by the idea.

"Hopefully, this afternoon. No promises, though. Things are pretty fluid right now. But if not today, tomorrow or the next for sure. Okay?"

Alan seemed to deflate, to Jeff's concern, and looked back down, studying his breakfast.

"Hey," he said, putting a hand on his sons shoulder, and bending down to look him in the eye. "We'll go. Promise," Jeff asssured him.

Alan just nodded, twirling his fork in his scrambled eggs, eyes on his plate.

As Jeff followed in the wake of his other children, he turned back and looked at Alan, now sitting alone at the table, quietly playing with his food. He needed more hours in the day. But some of those really needed to go to Alan, and he would find a way.

As the room quieted, once everybody had dispersed, Alan pushed his untouched plate away, and started to get up. Onaha looked at him with her brow furrowed. "You haven't eaten anything," she commented. "Do you want something else?"

Alan shook his head as he climbed off has chair. "Not hungry," he muttered wandering aimlessly into the lounge and the video games.

She watched him in concern. Ah, well, he'd eat at lunch. One missed meal wouldn't hurt him.

TB TB TB TB TB

Jeff felt badly that he hadn't been able to take Alan down to the beach the afternoon before. And it didn't look like it was going to happen today either. Tracy Enterprises seemed to have crises after crises following crises. It felt like all the big acquisitions he and Scott had been working towards for the last several months were coming to fruition all at once. The two of them and John had been on a video call for nearly six hours the day before. They'd skipped the family lunch, and had only eaten when Onaha had brought some sandwiches up, unbidden. By dinner, they were exhausted and snappish, and after the meal, they'd all gone off on their own in order to get some space and try to decompress.

It didn't help that there was another meeting this morning. And this one was going to be difficult. Jeff was strung as tight as a piano wire, and he thought John and Scott didn't look much better, when he reached the breakfast table.

The company he was purchasing had been failing due to their own business practices. Jeff was essentially bailing them out. But the owner of the other company seemed to feel that he was in a hostile takeover, and was making ridiculous demands. It was irritating, and at times, Jeff really just wanted to throw up his hands and tell the owner the deal was off. The company would certainly fail. But Jeff liked the product, and saw real promise in it. He also saw hundreds of workers who would lose their jobs. The win-win of this situation for all was for Tracy Enterprises to acquire the company, and that would be happening in spite of the idiot owner. Greed and stupidity just grated on him to no end.

So, although John, Scott and himself were tense and on edge this morning, Virgil, on the other hand, looked totally relaxed. He had schematics for a new type of communications device spread in front of him, and was completely immersed, ignoring everything around him. This was something that they were developing for International Rescue, but as with most of that technology (with the exceptions of the Thunderbirds themselves) they tried to find a way to make a part of it marketable. First, because it helped fund IR, and secondly, it was just plain good business sense.

Gordon came darting around the corner, towel draped over his shoulders, hair dripping from his morning swim. Skidding around the corner on bare feet, he slid sideways into his seat, grinning broadly. Alan followed more quietly, and Jeff frowned to himself. Alan looked sullen, unlike the smiling child from the morning before. Jeff groaned inwardly. He really wanted to take the boy down to the beach, but it just wasn't going to happen today either.

Onaha served breakfast with her usual smile. Jeff ate quickly, working on his tablet. Scott and John were doing the same. And since Virgil was involved in the plans he'd brought down with him, that left only Alan for Gordon to take out his boredom on.

Jeff managed to ignore most of the goading, but it wasn't until Gordon made a crack about 'eat your food, don't play with it' and Alan tried to take a swing at him, that Jeff looked up.

Gordon was rearing back out of the way, laughing, much to his incensed little brother's ire.

"Enough!" Jeff snapped. "Stop acting like toddlers, both of you! Alan, eat your breakfast. Gordon, stop provoking him."

Alan settled back down sullenly, but Gordon just couldn't let it go.

"Geez, Sprout," he cackled. "You're never going to be anything beside a shrimp, the way you eat. But I guess it's a good thing. At least Dad won't go broke with you on the island now. You won't make a dent in the grocery bill!"

"Shut up, Gordon!" Alan shouted back, clearly near the breaking point, much to Gordon's delight.

Jeff counted to ten silently. Gordon suddenly realized that he was pushing the edge, and settled down just enough to get his family off his back. He was still chuckling to himself. Jeff knew that meant as soon as they were gone, he'd probably start in on Alan again. Time to keep him busy.

"Gordon, you have two choices for this morning."

Gordon looked up brightly. "Yes, oh my captain?"

Jeff ignored him, and continued. "You can join us for the video meeting, or you can run one complete lap around the island. And be back by lunch time."

That got Gordon's attention. There was no way he was going to sit in on a boring meeting all morning. But running the island? Before lunch? "That's impossible," he blurted.

"Then I'd suggest you get going," Jeff said evenly. "And no short cuts. Unless you want to join us for the meeting."

Glowering, Gordon threw down his fork and napkin, and aimed a kick at his little brother just on principle, as he got out of his chair. He slouched out of the room, audibly making his displeasure known.

Gordon occupied for the morning, Jeff looked down at his youngest, and frowned in irritation.

Alan looked angry and sullen, and was just moving his fork around on the plate.

"Alan."

Alan didn't look up, just kept moving his sausage around his eggs.

"Alan!" Jeff snapped.

"What," Alan muttered belligerently.

Jeff decided that his family had been taken over by aliens that morning. "Don't take that tone with me, young man. Eat your breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," Alan mumbled.

"I don't care if you're hungry or not. Eat," Jeff snapped, and went back to his tablet.

It was a good thing for Alan that Jeff wasn't looking at him. The look his youngest son gave his father was full of anger and hostility. And then, very deliberately, Alan set his fork down on the table, and put his hands in his lap, in an overt show of defiance.

Scott and John, however, took it all in, exchanged a dumbfounded look, and went into action.

"Dad," Scott said, getting up from the table quickly. "We have to go. We're going to be late."

Jeff looked up surprised.

"Come on Dad, we need to talk to Anne Marie before we get going." John was getting up as well, and beginning to clear plates, making sure he grabbed Alan's before his father could look at it.

Looking up at the clock, Jeff was surprised to see that they were right. Rousting Virgil out with them, they headed en mass towards the office, John and Scott making sure that Alan was left behind, forgotten by their father.

As Alan got up, and wandered aimlessly away, Onaha worried about the scene she'd just witnessed. This was not going to end well.


	5. Chapter 5

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Onaha was right to worry. Lunch wasn't much better. Jeff was still strung tight, Gordon was tired and grumpy, and Alan was clearly spoiling for a fight. The three elder Tracy sons watched in disbelief as the battle unfolded.

It started with the usual aside of, "Alan, eat your lunch," and Jeff turning back to the conversation he was having with Scott.

"No."

It took Jeff a moment to register the flatly uttered denial. Flabbergasted, he turned back to his youngest son.

"What did you say?" he asked in a clear, warning tone.

Alan looked up at him, straight in the eye. "I said, no."

"And why not," Jeff said carefully.

"Because I'm not hungry," Alan said firmly, not looking away from his father, challenge clear in his gaze.

Only John heard the nearly inaudible 'shit' that came from Scott's direction. And he agreed completely. None of Tracy sons, with the exception of Gordon, seldom, if ever, challenged Jeff outright. They knew better.

"Alan, I don't care if you aren't hungry or not. You need to eat something," Jeff said with deliberate patience. At least as much as he could manage at the moment.

"No," Alan said stubbornly, not taking his gaze away from his father.

Jeff counted to ten. He was tired, he was tense, and he was wound tight from two days of delicate and difficult meetings. He did not need this. He took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. Whatever had made Alan decide that today, of all days, to bring this to a fight, Jeff was the adult, and he wasn't going to lose his temper.

"Alan, just each half of your sandwich, then you can be excused," Jeff said, with forced patience, trying to find a compromise.

Alan just shook his head obstinately.

Jeff sighed and shook his head, getting up from the table. He was not going to engage in a battle of wills with his son. He didn't have time for this kind of nonsense. "I don't have time for this, today. Alan, you'll sit here until you eat at least half of your sandwich. I don't care how long it takes. Onaha, will you stay and make sure he does?"

She nodded silently.

Jeff looked at his other sons. "Come on. We have work to do."

Even Gordon didn't make a whisper of protest, or any kind of last dig at his little brother. He wasn't going to step into that minefield.

As his sons silently dispersed, Jeff looked back at his youngest, sitting resting his chin on his fist, clearly ready to sit there for hours. Shaking his head, he looked back at Onaha. "I'm sorry I have to leave you have to deal with Alan's childish behavior. I expected better of him."

She just waved him away with a small smile, and Jeff left the room, not looking back at the small figure sitting alone at the big table.

TB TB TB TB TB

Jeff and Scott were still in deep conversation as they made their way down to dinner that evening. The afternoon hadn't been any better than the morning, and Jeff was tired. What he didn't expect was to see Virgil, ahead of him, stop dead, and mutter "I don't believe it."

Looking up, startled, Jeff was dumbfounded to see Alan still sitting at the table, lunch plate untouched in front on him. He clearly hadn't eaten a bite, and obedient to his father's instructions, he hadn't moved from the table, all afternoon.

Jeff felt a slow burn. He knew Alan had really wanted to go to the beach. And frankly, Jeff really wanted to take him. But this wasn't the way to get attention. The overreaction was most likely due to the upset of Alan's life. He missed Ruth, and frankly, they all did. And Alan also had to make the adjustment from the life he'd been living, to now living on the island, and it wasn't an easy one for him. But, really, this rebellious defiance was ridiculous. He'd give him an out, and hope that tomorrow morning would see a better attitude.

Walking into the room, Jeff said evenly, "Alan, you're done for the day. Go upstairs, and go right to bed. Somebody will be in to check on you in a little bit. I don't expect to see you until morning. Go."

Without comment or expression, Alan just got up and left the room.

"Do you want me to go up with him, Dad?" Scott asked quietly.

Jeff could feel a headache coming on. "No. Alan needs some time out right now, clearly. You can look in on him after dinner. Make sure he's in bed. But that's it. Let him think on things until morning."

Scott nodded unhappily, and sat down at the table. Needless to say, the meal was a very quiet one.

TB TB TB TB TB

Jeff had been glad when Scott had come back downstairs after dinner and reported that Alan was in bed. At least he'd followed directions on that one. And Scott had as well, having just spent a few minutes upstairs. Only long enough to make sure Allie was in bed.

Jeff had checked in on Alan as well, before turning in early himself, and the boy was sound asleep. That was good. Hopefully a good night's sleep would check that attitude before it got completely out of hand.

Unfortunately, that wasn't to be. Breakfast was a battle from the start. When it was clear that Alan wasn't going to eat what was on his plate, Onaha had offered to make him something else, but Jeff put a stop to that. Alan was to eat what was put in front of him.

Looking back down at his youngest son, Jeff realized that he really didn't know what was going on here. Alan hadn't ever been a particularly picky eater. But at this point, Jeff couldn't remember the last time Alan had eaten anything, and he had to be starving.

Jeff made sure he and Alan the last at the table as the elder Tracy sons dispersed, glad to get out of the highly charged atmosphere.

Pushing out his chair, Jeff leaned forward towards his youngest son, who was looking down at his untouched plate. Resting his elbows on his knees, and clasping his hands, he sighed, and said quietly, "What's going on, Allie?"

Alan just shrugged, and refused to look at his father.

"A hunger strike isn't going to help anything," Jeff commented. "Talk to me."

"I'm just not hungry," Alan muttered.

Jeff was really at a loss. The kid needed to eat, clearly, but something more was happening. He just wished he knew what it was.

He tried again. "Are you mad at me because I haven't been able to take you down to the beach yet? I haven't forgotten. We'll get there."

Alan just shrugged again.

"I'm sorry I'm working so much. It isn't by choice. Unfortunately the timing is terrible. We'll spend some time together when this is all done. Okay?"

The same shrug, and a muttered, 'whatever'.

Jeff chose to ignore the insolence for the time being. It wouldn't serve any point to take Alan to task for it right now. He really didn't know what the cause of all this was, and Alan certainly wasn't sharing. So, unfortunately, he just had to deal with this at face value for the time being.

"Okay, I'll leave you alone. But, no snacks. If you don't eat at meals, you don't get anything between, got it?" he said firmly, but kindly.

Alan just nodded, and got up from the table, wandering over to the couch and the TV, not meeting his father's eyes.

Completely at a loss, Jeff got up and headed for his office.

TB TB TB TB TB

Lunch was a repeat performance, and this time, Jeff's patience was fraying. He avoided engaging Alan's open challenge, trying to ignore the whole thing, because clearly something more was going on. But when Kyrano came up at the end of the meal, and suggested that he take Alan down to the beach that afternoon, since Jeff had another unexpected meeting, Jeff snapped.

Throwing his napkin down on the table, Jeff looked at his youngest son. "Thank you, Kyrano, but no. Alan doesn't deserve any special privileges right now. Not until he straightens out his attitude." And with that, he left the room, tired, frustrated and irritated.

TB TB TB TB TB

If Jeff had thought that denying Alan the pleasure of going down to the beach was going to help him put a check on his attitude, he was mistaken. If anything, Alan was worse. This evening meal was an echo of lunch the day before. Alan was openly defiant and antagonistic, and refused to eat a bit. The more Jeff tried to ignore it, or work out some kind of compromise, the more hostile and overtly belligerent Alan became.

Finally, Jeff had had more than enough. Two days of fighting, cajoling, trying to talk to him, punishments, basically anything he could think of hadn't work. He'd had it. Alan's behavior wasn't just openly hostile and defiant; he was now becoming outright rude. He was confrontation to anything said to him, no matter what it was, or who said it. Jeff had put up with it for far longer than was his norm, because he knew that Alan was dealing a lot of changes, but enough was enough.

The final straw was when Alan had snapped back a vicious, "No! No, No, No! What part of 'NO' don't you get? Are you stupid?" to Scott when he'd encouraged Alan to take a bite of the his steak, noting that it was one of Alan's favorites

Jeff knew Scott was clearly just trying to help smooth things over, and deflect the growing tension between Alan and his father. Bad enough to have the temper directed towards him, but now Alan was taking it out on his brothers as well. And that was completely unacceptable.

Leaving his own half eaten meal, Jeff stood up sharply, and motioned for Alan to do the same. "That is more than enough. Come with me, young man. Right now."

The others around the table froze. Jeff's anger was apparent, and it was clear that he'd been goaded beyond his patience. This was a situation that all of the Tracy sons had avoided as much as possible growing up. They all knew how much to push, and when to just shut up. It was in their best interests to do so. Jeff, at his limit of tolerance, was not somebody you wanted having you in his cross hairs.

Alan apparently hadn't gotten the memo; because he got up with the same pissy attitude he'd had all through the meal, and went sullenly out of the room in front of his father. There was not one iota of remorse in his face. "To your room," Jeff ordered curtly, "Now," and steered his youngest in that direction with a firm hand on his shoulder.

There was dead silence for a moment, then Gordon muttered, "Oh, hell," and dropped his fork.

"Seconded," Virgil muttered, setting his down as well, although a little more gently. "I've lost my appetite."

"Me, too," Scott sighed, not even commenting on Gordon's language as he set his own fork down on his plate. He rubbed his face with both hands. "But it's been coming. Frankly, Dad's shown more patience than I ever thought him capable of. You knew he had to snap sometime."

John just nodded unhappily, as Gordon and Virgil basically grunted agreement. Slowly, they began to eat unenthusiastically as Onaha silently refilled water glasses, and removed Alan's untouched plate and full glass of milk.

TB TB TB TB TB

It was nearly an hour before Jeff came back down to the lounge, without Alan. He looked tired and disheartened. John looked up in surprise from the magazine he was trying to read. Virgil and Gordon had the same expression on their face as they gave up trying to watch the movie they'd put on.

"That was quick," Scott commented, surprised. Usually, when their father had finally been pushed to the breaking point by one of his sons, his standard practice was to get the culprit someplace private, and immediately administer whatever punishment was appropriate, given age and the behavior. Then, he'd stay with them for a time, talking, trying to understand the root cause of the problem, and offering what comfort he could. Jeff also made sure he spent time making sure that they knew that he loved them, regardless of how badly they'd behaved. It wasn't a short process. Nor was it particularly pleasant for any of those involved, but luckily, it tended to only rarely be necessary.

"Is Allie okay?" Gordon asked, concerned.

Jeff just sighed. "Define okay." He dropped tiredly into an arm chair, clearly wrung out. "I finally just had to put him to bed and leave the room. I just couldn't get him talk to me. Unless it was to yell at me. He was absolutely furious, out of control, and wouldn't let me touch him. And he wasn't calming down. He told me in no uncertain terms that he hated me, he hates the island, and he doesn't want to be here."

"He said that?" Virgil asked, stunned. "Out loud?"

"Pretty much word for word," Jeff affirmed, clearly discouraged.

"And he's still alive?" Gordon muttered in disbelief.

John thwacked his younger brother on the back of the head, and Gordon yelped, turning around with a wounded expression.

Jeff chose to ignore the byplay and continued unhappily. "He also made it crystal clear that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, in any way, shape, or form. He's angry, he's upset, and frankly, he isn't giving so much as an inch. And I have no idea why. Well aside from the obvious. All the changes, etc. But there's clearly more to it than that, so any ideas about what would be helpful." He looked at them inquiringly, but when nothing was forthcoming, he leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

Onaha silently appeared next to him with a glass of Scotch. Jeff opened his eyes, startled, then took it gratefully, nodding his thanks. Jeff didn't drink that much, and certainly wasn't one to drown his sorrows in alcohol, but tonight? He could definitely use it.

"What are you going to do?" John asked quietly, setting his computer aside. He was trying to write another text book, and he hadn't been able to concentrate tonight anyway.

Jeff was silent for a while as he sipped his drink thoughtfully. Finally, he said, "I'll try to talk to him again tonight, a little later. Give him a chance to cool down. Hopefully, I can get to the bottom of all this, once he isn't so angry."

Sighing, he continued. "Longer term, well, I have to go to New York day after tomorrow for a couple of meetings. I think I'll take Alan with me. That will give us some time, just the two of us, and maybe I can find out what's going on in his head. I haven't spent nearly enough time with him since he's been here at home as it is. We need some one on one time."

Scott nodded thoughtfully. There wasn't much to say. It sounded as good as anything else did. They were all at sea with Alan right now.


	6. Chapter 6

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews! They really make my day.**

**CHAPTER SIX**

Absolutely furious and still upset, Alan knew he couldn't sleep. It was light out, and he shouldn't have had to go to bed early on top of being punished. It just wasn't fair. Indignantly, he swiped hot tears away. Alan just couldn't seem to stop crying. He was frustrated, and just basically plain incensed at the injustice of it all. He hated his father. He hated the island. He hated everything about this place. He wanted to go home. This wasn't home, and it never would be. His family didn't want him here, and he didn't want to be here. So why couldn't they just let him leave? He could stay with his friend Wayne's family. They at least liked him.

He tossed and turned, unable to sleep, unable to calm down, still crying intermittently, and powerless to stop. The sun slowly dropped, and the world deepened into shadow. As time slowly crept by, Alan continued to fume and cry into his pillow. At one point, sometime later, after darkness had fallen completely, Jeff came back into the room, and quietly sat down on the bed next to his son.

"Alan?" he asked gently.

It was clear that his father wanted to talk. Alan, on the other hand, wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. He hadn't deserved to be punished, and he wasn't going to do anything that would make his father feel better. So Alan deliberately turned away, rolling over to face the other side of the room, and getting as far away as he could. He made it as clear as he knew how that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the man.

He heard Jeff give a deep sigh, and after a moment, sensed the weight leave the side of the bed. "Okay then." His father's voice seemed resigned.

Good. He was finally leaving. Alan just stayed as still as he could, trying to keep his lip from quivering, and the ever-ready tears from falling. So he was surprised when Jeff leaned over him, and, before he could pull away, kissed his temple lightly, and pulled the blankets up more snugly around his shoulders, against the night's chill.

Another brief pause, making Alan think once again that his father was on his way out of the room, but then Jeff's soft voice came from right next to the bed, startling him. "I love you, Allie. Sleep well. See you in the morning." Then his father moved quietly for the door.

After the door had shut, and Alan was alone once again, the tears he'd been trying desperately to hold back started flowing once more. Angrily he swiped at his eyes. He knew his Dad hadn't meant what he said. He didn't know why he even tried to pretend. Why any of his family bothered. No matter what his father said, they didn't want him here. They'd made that pretty clear. They didn't care about him. It wasn't his fault he had to be here, getting in their way. It just wasn't fair!

Alan was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. He'd doze off, then would wake himself up again, crying. He tossed and turned fitfully. He must have finally dropped off to a real sleep for a short time, because this time he was awakened by somebody once again opening his bedroom door latch with a soft snick. He quickly closed his eyes again, and made sure his breathing was slow, feigning that he was still sleeping. He heard the door open the door softly, obviously somebody checking on him, then the sound of the door shutting quietly again after a moment. His anger surged once more, and lip quivering; he wondered why they even pretended that they cared about him. And tonight was just the last straw. He really, REALLY, didn't want to see anybody with the last name Tracy right now. Or ever again, if he had his way.

TB TB TB TB TB

It was very late when Jeff quietly closed Alan's bedroom door once more. He just didn't know what to do. At least Alan was asleep now. Finally. Leaning against the wall, he rubbed the top of the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. He had a monster of a headache. Just looking at the sleeping Alan, still more fresh tear tracks on his face, so clearly unhappy, was breaking his heart.

"Dad?" Scott's voice made him open his eyes and look up. His eldest son was standing in front of him, looking concerned. Scott had evidently been working late on TB 1, as the grease stains on his shirt told the tale. It was his normal place to go when he was upset or needed to think, Jeff knew. The familiar mechanics of the maintenance on his Thunderbird always helped his eldest son calm down. Not surprising that he'd taken refuge there tonight. Jeff made himself smile, trying to be reassuring, half-hearted attempt though it was, despite his growing headache.

"Is Allie all right?"

Jeff just sighed. "No. No, not really. I just wish I knew why he's so angry," Jeff commented, disheartened.

Scott smiled slightly, amused. "Well, you punished him tonight. He's not going to be happy," he pointed out.

Jeff snorted softly. "No, no, I don't mean that. I mean he still just absolutely will not talk to me. At all. I just can't get through to him. And he's still very upset."

Scott frowned at that. "Still? You came up to try and talk to him again a while ago. He should have cooled off by then. I mean, you gave him a couple of hours at least."

Since Scott had been instrumental in helping Jeff to raise his younger sons, his eldest had a pretty fair idea of how any of them would react in a given situation. Jeff trusted his Scott's judgment implicitly, and was glad to have his feelings confirmed. He was beginning to doubt himself these days.

Jeff just nodded. "I know. But when I tried, he turned his back on me, and it was pretty apparent that he was as angry and upset as ever. He hadn't calmed down in the least."

Now Scott was looking worried, brow furrowed, staring at Alan's door. "Maybe I should go check on him. If he wakes up, I can try to talk to him," he murmured, concerned.

Jeff shook his head. "Not tonight. He's finally dropped off, and I'd rather let him sleep. It won't take much to wake him up right now."

"Wait, you mean he hasn't gone to sleep until just now?" Scott swung around to stare at his father, startled. "But you put him to bed early, hours ago!"

"Shhh," Jeff hissed. "Don't wake him up! I know. When he refused to have anything to do with me again, I left him alone, hoping he'd calm down and drop off to sleep. He's been tossing and turning and crying ever since, until just a little bit ago."

Although clearly still concerned, Scott smirked in amusement. "Let me guess, you've been coming by and listening at the door for every half hour or so." He grinned openly at his father.

Caught in the act by his eldest son, who knew him far too well, Jeff just growled.

Shaking his head, amused, Scott slung his arm around his father's shoulders. "Come on Dad, you need to get some sleep, too. They guys have all gone to bed, and we can figure out what's going on with Alan in the morning. They're worried too. Besides, you need something for that headache, and not coffee," he finished with a quiet laugh, "Otherwise, you'll be worse than Allie in the morning."

Jeff just glared, but allowed himself to be steered away from his youngest son's door. He hated to admit it, but Scott was right.

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan lay silently, listening to the soft voices in the hall, still feigning sleep in case they looked in again. He couldn't hear what was being said, or the tone, but he could make out Scott and his father's voices. At one point he heard a very faint laugh, then nothing more. They shouldn't be laughing at him, he thought, sniffling uncontrollably, and hot tears made their way down his cheeks once more. And that just made him feel worse, and pretty soon, he was hiccupping sobs into his pillow once again.

After that, he couldn't sleep at all, and he didn't even both to try. He continued to toss and turn, until the bedside clock showed that it was after 1 am. All the lights in the villa were finally out, so everybody must have gone to bed. At last, he groused to himself. Since it was apparent that the house was finally quiet, Alan felt free to get up and go to his laptop and not get caught. He may as well work on the next generation of his locks. There wasn't anything else to do around here, and he was still way too angry to sleep much.

A few years back, Alan had come up with a plan for a security system. It was diabolically simple, and Ruth had seen the possibilities in it right away. She had encouraged him to expand on it, and taken out a patent on it in Alan's name. She had also helped him set up a company to market the system, thinking that it would help him understand what his father was doing when he was working. The company had taken off.

The security system had been followed by an electronic lock. Again, incredibly simple and absolutely unbreakable. By the time the second generation of lock was introduced, the company was being managed by Ruth's lawyer, Brad McCutcheon, and was very successful.

But, as had been the case since he'd moved back to the island. Alan found he couldn't concentrate on his locks. Nothing was working right. He'd always been able to work on the electronic locks when he'd been home. His grandmother would get the prototype design built by Mr. Conver, the shop teacher at the high school. Once that was done, she and Alan would do anything they could to try to break it. They tried hacking, brute strength, and anything else they could think of. It was always fun, and the locks held firm.

The ever ready tears of the night struck unexpectedly at the thought of his grandmother. He missed her so much. Alan just put his head down in his crossed arms on the desk, and let himself cry. It was just all too much, especially tonight, when everything was going wrong.

Finally, after the emotional storm had passed once again, Alan sniffed, and decided he wanted to see the Kansas house again. Bringing up Goggle maps, he toggled into Kansas, and drilled down until he could see an aerial view of the land. Just the sight of it made him homesick again.

He really didn't like it here on the island. It was always hot, and the jungle came right up to the house. There wasn't any wide open spaces like there was in Kansas. It might be fun if he could actually explore, but he was stuck in the house for the most part. He couldn't even play in the pools by himself. And besides, what was the fun of that when you were by yourself anyway. And that was really the biggest problem, Alan decided, as he zoomed in closer to well-remembered landmarks.

If only his family were the people that he remembered, it might not be so bad. But they weren't. They were strangers. They worked and that was all. If he'd ever needed proof as to how unimportant he was to his father, he had it now. Sniffling again, he switched to street view, and got a huge shock.

The view of the driveway to the farm was exactly as he remembered it. The neatly painted mailbox, with the weeds below it, the graveled drive, and the gate, that was open more often than not. The view of the front of the house, with the steps up to the high front porch that spanned the front. The swing on the front porch. All looking exactly the same. With one single addition. A 'for sale' sign was set up, bright as day, next to the mailbox.

Alan froze. To see something like that at the end of a truly lousy day – one of the worst he could ever remember – made his heart hit absolute rock bottom. He stared at it for a while, almost uncomprehending. It couldn't be. Not Grandma's house. Dad wouldn't do that. Would he?

Alan stared at the sign on the computer screen a little longer. In his dark room in the deep of the night on a tropical island with no ambient light except the few lights on over the pool, Alan had never felt so alone. When he was back in Kansas, the dark had never seemed so black and mysterious. Even the rich, velvety sky above the island, with the stars showing so incredibly bright, just felt alien to him. He just couldn't bear it. He so desperately wanted to be living back at home, and now it looked like he might not ever be able to. He wished he was grown up. He wished he could buy it, and have it so nobody could ever take it away.

In the middle of that wave of despair, a thought suddenly occurred to Alan. He had money. And not the money of his trust fund. His father handled all that. Alan didn't know much about it, just that it was there. No, he had money of his own, that he controlled. And there was a lot of it, too. Mr. McCutcheon and his grandmother made sure he understood how well his company was doing. Alan froze, thinking hard. It was 2am on the island. That meant it was daytime in the United States.

Alan stared at his computer, biting his lip. Then before he could talk himself out of it, he brought up Skype, and called Mr. McCutcheon.

"Hi Alan," Brad McCutcheon said, smiling, as he took the call. He was glad to hear from Alan. He'd been worried about him. His smile faded as he took in the youngest Tracy. Alan looked drawn and unhappy. The room he was in was dark, but was obviously his bedroom. He was dressed in nightclothes, and clearly had been crying recently.

"Are you all right?" Brad asked Alan carefully. Clearly something was going on here.

Alan bit at his lower lip for a moment, then, ignoring the question, went right to the heart of the matter. "I want to buy Grandma's house."

Brad McCutcheon blinked. That was not what he had expected to hear. Not by a long shot. "Alan, you can't buy a house. And I didn't know it was up for sale. Your father is selling the family farm?"

At Alan's nod, he continued. "Why don't you just ask your father to take it off the market?"

"No!" Alan exclaimed, then looked hurriedly behind him, then back at the screen. When he spoke again, it was much quieter, but just as emphatic. "No. I want to buy it. I want it to be mine. Can my lock company buy it?"

Brad looked at Alan thoughtfully. Alan's company, The AT Lock and Security Company, or just known by the nickname The Lock Company, was doing remarkably well. The first and second generation electronic locks had been added to the original computer security system that Alan had invented. They were deceptively simple at first glance, but all had proven unbreakable. Because they were so simple, then were inexpensive in comparison to anything else on the market. Because of that, not only were companies buying them up, but people of lessor means as well. Those in the middle income bracket finally had a means of security that was affordable, effective, and easy to use. Ruth's foresight in taking out the patents for Alan meant that he was going financially secure, all on his own, for the rest of his life.

"Yes," he said slowly. "Yes, your company could buy the property. But Alan, I'm not sure I know what's going on here. You're a minor. I'd need to talk to your father."

Alan's expression hardened, making Brad McCutcheon's heart sink further. "But the lock company is mine, right? The money is mine. My Dad doesn't have anything to do with it. You're my agent, right?"

Brad nodded, unhappily. "Yes."

"And you hold fud . . . fudc . .." Alan stumbled over the word.

Sighing, Brad provided it. "Fiduciary."

"Yeah. Fi-duci-ary responsibility, right?"

"Yes," Brad sighed again, knowing where this was going.

"But it's my money."

"Yes," Brad said again, unhappily.

"So, you can buy it for my company," Alan persisted.

"Yes, Alan. Technically, I could negotiate the sale of the farm to The AT Lock and Security Company. But why would you want to? I'm sure your father would take it off the market if you asked him to. I'm not sure why you think you have to buy it. I think I really need to talk to your father about all this."

Alan was shaking his head emphatically. "Uh-uh."

Brad watched the child forlornly. He thought dealing with Ruth had been tough. Alan was proving that he was going to be just as difficult. A Tracy at any age was a force to be reckoned with.

Alan was continuing. "And once my company buys it, nobody could sell it again without me agreeing, right?"

"Well, yes. Of course I could advise you that it would be best if . . . "

"But nobody could make me, could they?" Alan persisted.

Brad McCutcheon expelled a long breath. "No. You are one hundred percent owner. It is my duty as your agent and manager to advise you, and since you are a minor. But as your attorney, ultimately I'm required to bide by your wishes, as long as they make sense." Brad tried once again. "Just let me talk to your Father . . ."

Alan ignored his last comment, gaining speed as he began to formulate a plan. "Okay. I want you to buy the farm for me."

"Alan, this is a large outlay of cash. It might not be such a great idea," Brad tried desperately.

"Is it a bad idea? Why? I thought property was a good investment?" Alan asked, truly curious. He wanted the farm. He had the money in his company to buy it. So what was the problem? "Last time you went through the finances with me and Grandma, there was lots of money over the cost of making the locks. You were saying that we needed to think about buying investments. You and Grandma were talking about land too, right? How much is the farm?"

Reluctantly, Brad brought up the MLS listing on his laptop. The Tracy farm was indeed for sale. His heart sank. Looking further into the description, he found the asking price, and told Alan.

Alan beamed. "See? That's nothing. There's way more than enough money right now to buy the farm 10 times. And Grandma rented out the fields. I could still do that, right?"

Feeling like he was in a trap with no escape, Brad nodded. "Yes. You could continue the lease of the fields, and that that would pay the taxes, maintenance on the house, and for a caretaking service. Your company would hold the farm as an asset."

"And that would be good, right?" Alan persisted.

Brad McCutcheon couldn't lie to his client. It actually was a good idea. Moving some of the excess cash into property or other investments was something he and Ruth had discussed. She had been planning to explain it in more clarity to Alan, so they could move forward, and maybe she had. Ruth had favored property. But whatever the reason, from The Lock Company's standpoint, it was a smart move. There would be no downside. Pay cash for the property, lease the fields, and use that to pay any upkeep and taxes. The excess from the lease would go back into the company.

"Yes, Alan. Actually, it would be a very good move."

Alan grinned happily, then turned serious. "Can you buy it for my company without letting my Dad know it's me? That's important. I don't want Dad knowing." Alan's face was hard.

"I don't like it, Alan. I really need to talk to your Father about this."

"You can't," Alan said flatly. "You work for me, right? Not for Dad. And I want to buy the farm, and I don't want Dad to know."

Brad McCutcheon, long time attorney at law, and a well-respected member of the community, gave into his client. It wasn't like he had any choice. But honestly? He didn't feel like it was one of his better moments. And he knew that when Jefferson Tracy found out, no matter how long that took, he would not be happy. Brad was not looking forward to that day.

The long suffering man sighed. "Okay, Alan. I'll get in touch with a real estate agent, and I'll have him make an offer. Will you let him negotiate on the behalf of your company?"

Alan nodded. "Okay. But why does he have to neg-otiate?" Alan stumbled slightly over the word.

That just made Brad McCutcheon even more aware of the responsibility he had to his client. Alan was remarkable in the amount he understood of business, but he was still a child. Brad had always done the best he could for him, and would continue to do so. Smiling at Alan, he answered, "Because we don't want to have to pay anything more than we have to, right?"

Alan grinned. "Nope. But I want to get this done really fast, okay?"

Brad smiled back. He couldn't help it. Alan was clearly pleased with the prospect of owning the Tracy family farm. "No problem. We'll make a fair offer, but we'll get the better end of it. Even if we are negotiating with your Father."

Alan sighed happily, feeling good for the first time in a very long time. "Thanks, Mr. McCutcheon."

"You're welcome, Alan. I'll be in touch."

As Alan terminated the connection, he felt like maybe one good thing was actually going to happen since Grandma died. He'd have his home, and nobody would be able to take it away from him. Then his heart sank again. But he was just a kid. And it was going to be a long time before he could live there alone. So for now, he was still stuck here on the island, with his father and his brothers. That thought made him remember had bad the last few days had been, and how much his family didn't care. In the end, he just crawled back into bed, and burst into tears once more, and cried himself to sleep.

**Note: Once again, thanks to SubRosa7. It's been really nice to have somebody to bounce these ideas around with, and I haven't had that for a long time. Anyway, the idea of Alan buying the house was one of the key points when I began to think about this story. Then I thought it was over the top and pretty unrealistic, and took it out. Then, decided that I really wanted it in there, and was waffling. So SubRosa7 encouraged me to leave it in there. And I suppose that when you consider the premise of International Rescue, and the fact that canon has these incredibly wealthy, incredibly good looking, and incredibly over-the-top talented men running this anonymous rescue organization out of a South Pacific island, I don't suppose anything we come up with as fanfic authors is really all that out of line. So, please, suspend belief, for pretty much any fanfiction, and this one in particular! **


	7. Chapter 7

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

By morning, Jeff was realizing that, yet again, his plans were not going well. When he had gone to get Alan up the next morning, hoping to be able to talk to him, he found that that Alan looked like he felt even worse than Jeff himself did. And his son's attitude hadn't improved one bit. He was still angry and spiteful, and not at all remorseful. Jeff had fully expected him to have cooled down and be somewhat contrite. Had that been the case it would have been easy to just give him a hug, and find out what was going on. Instead, Alan was just as furious as he had been the night before.

And the day hadn't gotten much better, making Jeff grind his teeth in frustration. Part of it Jeff knew could put down to Alan being just plain exhausted. After all, Alan had been pretty worked up, and hadn't gone to sleep until very late. And Jeff was tired as well, not having gone to bed himself until he knew Alan was finally down for the night (and Scott had made him). With both of them tired and frustrated, neither was in the best frame of mind to try to work things out, but Jeff tried anyway, reining in his impatience.

And so far, any attempt to talk to his youngest was met with stony silence or outright rejection. Scott tried as well, with no more success than his father. Given the circumstances, Jeff really didn't want to have to punish Alan again. So instead, he managed to make it through that day, holding hard onto his fast fraying patience, ignoring his sullen son's belligerence as much as possible, telling himself it was a combination of lack of sleep, and lack of food, and should improve when he was able to get both.

However, the next day did not find any improvement, either. On the plane, Alan managed to stay as far from his father as physically possible. Jeff knew that he was going to have to deal with this again, and he really didn't want to have to.

Things went from bad to worse after that. Alan defied Jeff at every turn. Sometimes openly, sometimes subtly, and sometimes he just flat ignored him completely. By the time they got to the office, Alan's behavior deteriorated further, if that were possible. Finally, his longtime assistant, Anne Marie, practically shoved Jeff out the door to his meeting, announcing that she'd watch Alan.

Jeff didn't argue. He was fast losing any shred of patience he had left, and headed up for his meeting in a decidedly foul mood. How Alan could manage to defy him on even the simplest proceedings practically made him boil over. Alan seemed determined to cause trouble at every turn. It was a good think Anne Marie had been there to intervene, because he had been about ready to paddle Alan right then and there, square in the middle of the executive lobby.

As he headed for the elevator, he took a deep breath. He had other things to think about right now, and he'd deal with his youngest trouble maker, when he was through. Some time away might help him calm down.

As the door shut after Jeff, Anne Marie looked down at Alan Tracy. The blue Tracy eyes were stormy with anger, and a stubbornness that she knew all too well. She was one of the few who could actually deal with him. Although in the last 5 years she hadn't seen him that often, she had a pretty good feeling that she knew what was going on in his head. And that she was probably the only one. His father obviously didn't have a clue.

"Okay, Alan," she said matter of factly, "Into the conference room."

She watched his eyes narrow slightly, and knew he was weighing his options. She signed.

"Just do it. March."

She took a chance, and grabbed his shoulder and pushed him firmly in front of her over into the room, and firmly shut the door behind them. She knew the receptionist and other assistants had been avidly watching, and hoping that Alan would get set down by his father, and hard. He'd be a royal brat all day. Anne Marie, however, wanted to avoid a scene at all costs. This kid didn't need that right now. He didn't seem to have made many friends at Tracy Enterprises that day, or, from what she'd gathered, in the Tracy family as a whole right now, for that matter.

She leaned back against the now shut door, arms crossed. She knew this room to be the most soundproof in the suite, and thought that might come in handy right now. "Okay. Tell me."

Alan moved sullenly over to the couch, dropping his backpack onto it, and climbing up to plop down onto it. He crossed his arms and looked at her belligerently. "What?" He snapped back rudely.

"Tell me what's going on in that head of yours," she stated.

"Why?" he challenged, face hard. Too hard for a 10 year old, Anne Marie thought sadly.

She sighed, relaxed her posture, and walked over to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down facing him, elbows on her knees, leaning towards him. "Because you're doing your level best to push every button your father has, as well as anybody else around you. You forget that I've known you since you were born. You know exactly what you're doing."

Alan blinked slightly, surprised she'd seen that.

Anne Marie smiled to herself. She could read Jeff's boys as easily as she could their father.

Then his expression hardened once again. "So?" He said, belligerently.

Anne Marie looked at him thoughtfully, trying to work things out in her head. She then said very slowly, "I think . . . that you want to hurt him . . . as much as he has hurt you."

Alan froze, and stared at her.

"That's it, isn't it?" She nodded again, thinking this through. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she was right. "And better he's mad at you, because at least he's paying attention to you. Angry is better than ignored."

Alan looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, then he pulled himself together. "NO! That's not right! I HATE him!" He started to jump up and clearly wanted to head for the door.

"Sit right back down, young man. Right now!" Anne Marie snapped back.

Alan stopped, hesitated as he gauged her seriousness, then sat back on the couch, warily.

Anne Marie knew he wasn't cowed, but she needed to keep him in one place and get to the bottom of this. "You don't mean that."

Alan crossed his arms definitely. "Yes, I do. I hate him. And he hates me."

"No, Alan. Your father loves you. Lots!" She smiled, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of Jeff hating one of his sons. The sun rose and set on those boys of his.

"No, he doesn't. If he did, he wouldn't . . . " Alan broke off and looked away.

"He wouldn't what?" She asked softly. Now they were getting somewhere.

A long pause. "He wouldn't like me to be invisible."

Anne Marie had to think about that one. "Invisible? What do you mean?"

"He likes it when I'm invisible. When I don't cause any problems, when I'm there, but he doesn't have to pay attention to me. When I'm being invisible," Alan tried desperately to make her see.

Anne Marie was starting to get the picture. "So when you behave yourself, you feel like you're invisible?"

Alan nodded. Maybe she did get it. "Grandma never liked it when I was invisible. She always wanted to know about my day, and what I did, and wanted to talk about things. Dad never wants me to talk," Alan finished sadly. "He never has any time TO talk. Neither do my brothers."

Anne Marie's heart turned over. This poor kid. He'd been living with his grandmother for most of his life. Now she was gone. Of course he was grieving.

"Oh, Allie, honey, your Father is just busy. He's got lots of work to do. He's not trying to ignore you."

"He doesn't care about me. My brothers don't either," Alan said defiantly, clearly convinced of this.

"Alan, they're just older than you, and they work for . . . for the family business. You will too one day, when you grow up. They all just want you to have a childhood first."

Alan broke in, all fiery anger and defiance. "I'm NEVER going to work for International Rescue. EVER! I HATE IR. It's taken everything away from me. Dad left me at Grandma's when he started it and moved to the island so I wouldn't be in the way. We were a family before that. Now there isn't any time for me or anything I'm doing because somebody has to run the stupid thing. Everything else is more important than me and I hate it! And I hate them!" Alan was on his feet now, yelling.

Anne Marie had turned white. Alan was not supposed to know about International Rescue. "Alan, how did you hear about International Rescue? Who told you? Did your Grandmother? That is supposed to be a secret!"

Alan looked at her disdainfully. "I've always known. Nobody told me. I knew when I saw the island and the big caverns, and the pictures of the machines. Dad used to talk about it when I was little and he thought I was sleeping. I knew when Dad left me at Grandma's." He shrugged. "Everybody seemed to want it to be a big secret from me, so I didn't say anything."

Anne Marie was frozen in shock, so Alan continued.

"Besides, I liked it with Grandma. She never treated me like I was stupid. She was always interested in what I was doing, didn't tease me, and would come to my stuff. She never missed anything. Dad pretty much missed everything." He shrugged. "I told her to stop inviting him to my meets and stuff, because he never came, but she kept telling me that he wanted to. I didn't believe her, but let her think I did. The rescues were always way more important than me. Tracy Enterprises is too. They still are."

"No Alan," Anne Marie finally found her voice. "They aren't. He's glad to have you on the island now, back with the family. They're all glad your back."

Alan looked at her scornfully. "No they aren't. They don't want me around. They think I'm in the way. Besides, they don't know anything about me. And anyway, I wouldn't even be at the island now if Grandma hadn't . . . died. They'd have let me stay in Kansas 'cause I was out of the way. I was invisible. And I don't care. I liked it." His voice broke slightly. But he continued on harshly. "And they don't care. As long as I'm invisible, it's okay. But if they have to see me, they get mad."

"No, Alan. That isn't true. You're just ten years old, that's all . . ." She was broken off by a furious Alan.

"NO, I'm NOT! I'm eleven! I'm not ten." His voice rose in fury. "I'M ELEVEN!" Alan yelled at the top of his lungs.

And that was when it hit Anne Marie. Alan _was_ eleven. She suddenly realized what day it was. He'd turned eleven, five day ago. And nobody, not one of them, had remembered.


	8. Chapter 8

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

When Jeff came back down into his office reception area, he was tired. Tired, drained, and spent. He still had to get the requisitions that Brains needed for IR into the system, sign the Tracy Enterprises Requisitions, check his email, then get back on the conference call to Scott and John. And he was already three hours later than he'd expected. It was seven in the evening, and he also had to free whatever poor employee who had been stuck watching his young hooligan. Just the thought of Alan was enough to raise his blood pressure. He really should have left him back home on the island. But he just hadn't been spending enough time with him lately, and taking him seemed like a good idea at the time.

Jeff ran a hand through his hair and sighed. There just plain weren't enough hours in the day.

The receptionist to the Executive Suite was long gone for the day when he pushed his way into the quiet waiting room. Anne Marie was sitting on the couch, reading some contract. She looked up when he came in, and pointed to the chair across from her. A steaming cup of coffee was waiting for him. He picked it up gratefully, and took a sip.

"Thanks, I needed this. No time to sit, though, I have to . . ."

"SIT."

Jeff blinked. He looked at her closely. "Anne Marie . . .?"

She signed. "Sit down, Jeff. We need to talk. Now."

Jeff sat down. He looked around suddenly. "Where is Alan? Did he do something? Did something happen?"

"Alan is asleep in the conference room. We have to talk."

Jeff leaned back, looking at her, confused. "About what?"

She sighed. "Alan had quite a meltdown today," she began.

Jeff groaned. "Oh, lord. Not again. What now?" He really did not need this.

Anne Marie pointed a finger at his chest. "Listen!"

Jeff raised his hands in supplication and shut up.

"That child is convinced that you hate him. He's doing his best to push every button you have in order to just get your attention."

Jeff looked startled, and began to speak. And Anne Marie's expression, he snapped his mouth shut.

"Did you know that he knows about IR? And has from the beginning?"

Jeff looked staggered, and shook his head. Anne Marie nodded back at him. "Oh yes, and he's convinced that's why you left him to live with his Grandmother. He was in the way of the startup. And that is why you never came to any of his school events. Oh, and he resents it. He resents it in a BIG way. He told me in no uncertain terms that he hates IR and will never, ever be a part of it because it took away his family."

Jeff was listening in open mouthed shock. "That isn't true!" He managed to stammer.

"Isn't it?," Anne Marie demanded. "The more I think about it, the more I think he's right. He never saw you or his brothers . . ."

Jeff broke in, "I talked to him by vid phone regularly! So did his brothers."

"Not the same," Anne Marie said, shaking her head. "Not anywhere close. And his brothers? When Alan left for his grandmothers, they were still 'brothers'. Now, they are men. And Alan doesn't know them anymore. Oh, he sees them on vacations and holidays. But that's different, real life isn't getting in the way. Now, he's interacting with you all on a day to day basis. And all he knows is that his family has gone on without him, and he isn't a part of it anymore."

She continued. "He's still a child, but they've all grown up into strong, capable 'heroes' that everybody the world over admires and respects. Think about it. He watched you on TV, and heard all the comments about how wonderful IR is. And he wasn't with you. And now, he doesn't know how to talk to any of you anymore, because you're all off busy saving the world."

"That isn't true, and you know it!" Jeff argued, sitting up and glaring at his long- time assistant.

"Isn't it? When was the last time you attended something of Alan's, Jeff? When was the last time you did something just with him? When did you ever just talk to him without reprimanding him for something?"

Jeff sat back, stung and stunned into silence at the truth of her words.

"Your mother covered for you very, very well. Alan was happy with Ruth. She made him feel wanted and cared for. She made sure he got the attention he needed. Then, when she died, he was left alone, with people who were essentially strangers, and you had nobody to run interference for you." Anne Marie knew she was being brutal to a man who truly cared for his children, ALL of his children, but the fact was, his youngest had been neglected, and Ruth had taken up the slack. But she was gone now, and Jeff had to wake up, or he was going to lose Alan along with his mother. It may already be too late, but she hoped not. There still was a chance, if she could just get him to see.

Finally he stammered, "So . . . why . . .?"

"Why did he finally melt down today? Is that what you're asking? Why has his behavior deteriorated so dramatically in the last few days?" Anne Marie asked gently.

Jeff managed to nod.

"Because five days ago, your son turned eleven years old, and nobody noticed," she answered softly, knowing that she was breaking the man's heart as she did so.

TB TB TB TB TB

Jeff entered the dark conference room quietly. His heart stopped for a moment as he looked at the couch, and saw only a crumpled blanket next to a backpack, but then he saw a glint of blond hair in the dim glow of the lights over by the window. Alan was sitting on the floor, leaning against the floor to ceiling window, his hands clasped around his knees, forehead on the cool glass, looking out at the city spread far below.

Sighing heavily, Jeff walked over to his youngest son. Alan didn't move to acknowledge him in any way.

"For what it's worth, son, I'm sorry," Jeff said softly, hunkering down next to Alan.

Alan didn't look at him, just nodded slightly.

Jeff's stomach knotted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent Alan's birthday with him. He always sent a gift, and would call him on the day (or the day after if a rescue intervened). He was only just now realizing how much his mother had covered with him with his youngest son, allowing Jeff the freedom to pursue his dream. It was almost as though Jeff had been waiting until Alan grew up enough to join the other Tracy sons with their father in International Rescue. 'Invisible' was what Anne Marie said Alan had called himself. He wasn't far wrong, and that wrung Jeff's heart.

It was bad enough that he'd forgotten Alan's birthday, but that still, nobody (that HE) hadn't remembered until Alan called their attention to it today, just made the whole thing even worse.

"How about we go home?" He finally said quietly.

Alan was silent for a moment. Then he said quietly, "I can't go home anymore. Grandma's dead."

Jeff's stomach did another slow roll. He closed his eyes for a moment. Home to Jeff and his other son's was Tracy Island. Home to Alan was a farm house in Kansas with his grandmother, and had been since he was three years old. Not someplace with his father and brothers. And the only home he recognized as 'home' right now, had had all of its belongings put in storage, including the majority of Alan's own things. Alan's room at the island was as impersonal as a guest room, and Jeff realized that he hadn't even noticed.

"I'm so sorry, Allie," he said again, heartfelt. "I'll try to make it up to you."

Alan just shrugged slightly again, and got to his feet, and without a look at his father, headed for the couch to grab his backpack.

Jeff slowly straightened up. He couldn't tell if Alan didn't believe him, or didn't care anymore. He had a bad feeling that it was the former, and hoped beyond all hope that it didn't include the latter. He had a sense that whatever he did for the unforeseeable future when it came to Alan was going to be wrong. No matter what he tried to do. He supposed it was a step forward that he now realized there was a problem, but that was pretty thin comfort.


	9. Chapter 9

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

_**Thanks again for all the lovely reviews!**_

**_Note: I'm having to go out of town for a week, so this will be the last post until I get back. Sorry about that. _**

**CHAPTER NINE**

Jeff made the snap decision to fly back to Tracy Island that night. It would be very late by the time they got back home, but Jeff felt like he needed to be on familiar footing to deal with Alan right now. He was incredibly grateful to Anne Marie. As hard as it was to hear, he knew it was necessary, if he was to ever have a chance of setting things right.

Alan had been all but silent throughout a dinner at a restaurant near the airport, speaking briefly only when spoken too, and hadn't even asked where they were going. He ate a shade more than he'd been eating as of late, which had basically been next to nothing, and this time, Jeff didn't push it. What Alan was or was not eating right now was the least of their problems. Jeff was finding he didn't have much of an appetite either.

The plan had originally been to stay at the New York apartment, but when Jeff changed his mind, Alan just followed, not asking questions. As he had whenever they'd been together since Alan was 5.

Where had his child gone? The exuberant, enthusiastic little boy, the one who would call 'Look at me, Daddy', and joyfully show his father something he'd learned, confident in the knowledge that Jeff would be as thrilled as he was with whatever the latest thing was.

When they boarded the jet, Jeff seated in the pilot's seat, he looked back at his son. "Want to co-pilot for me? We can get started on flying lessons for you," he said with a smile.

"Uh, uh," Alan said shaking his head. "I already have my license. Grandma got me flying lessons when I was seven. Course I can't fly solo yet, but I've done everything up to that. She made sure I flew some jets, too." He didn't look back at his father as he headed towards the back of the plane, clearly intent on a seat as far from his father as he could get.

Suitably chastised, Jeff turned back forward, glum again. How had he not known that? Alan was already flying jets? Not surprising, he supposed, he was a Tracy, and with the exception of Gordon, air was their natural element. His mother would have made sure he was trained in what was necessary for the life they led. Sighing, Jeff began the takeoff sequence.

It was indeed very late by the time they landed, and Alan was out for the count in the back of the plane. Jeff landed, using the radio beacons, as nobody was awake or expecting them, ran quickly through the post flight checks, and carried Alan off the plane and into the house.

As he changed Alan into his pajamas and tucked him into bed, he looked around the room that had been his youngest son's since they moved to the island. It did indeed look like a guest room. And what toys and books Alan had left here from his previous visits, were too young for him now. No wonder he had seemed so bored. There wasn't anything that was remotely interesting or stimulating for him. And all of Alan's personal day to day treasures had been at Ruth's house. He'd need to get those boxes out of storage as soon as possible, and over to the island. Alan needed to feel like this was home. He'd also need to see what Alan wanted of Ruth's things.

Following her death, he'd just had a company box everything up from the Kansas house, and put it in storage, intending to have everything shipped to the island at a later date to sort through it. Then he had put the farm on the market, and leaving only enough furnishings in the house to stage it for sale. Surprisingly, a reasonable offer had come in for the property just before he left for New York, and Jeff had wasted no time in accepting it. Large Kansas farms were not easy to move in the current economic climate, and although the offer had been on the lower side, it had been fair, and with the added incentive of being cash, with a short close date. He'd handled most of the arrangements today at the office. He'd also made arrangements that as soon as the sale actually closed, anything left in the house would be moved to the same storage unit, waiting for transfer to the island.

The knife in his gut twisted yet again as he realized that the home he'd grown up in had been his youngest son's home for nearly 8 years. All of the time he could remember, frankly. And because Jeff wasn't sentimental about things like that, he'd just assumed Alan wouldn't be either. But Alan was a 10 year old – no, 11 year old child, not a grown man. And now it was too late to stop the sale. It was already done.

Shit. He had really screwed up this one.

He tucked the blankets around Alan, and gently kissed his temple, just as he had the other night. No wonder Alan had been so angry lately. Well, now he understood. Jeff winced slightly, thinking about it as he turned out the light. He paused at the doorway, looking back at his deeply sleeping son, just visible in the ambient light from the hallway. He'd do better. He had to. He just had to.

TB TB TB TB TB

When Jeff walked into the breakfast room the next morning, the morning meal was in full swing. Scott, Virigil, John and Gordon were deep into a huge breakfast. Gordon, training for the Olympics later in the summer, was loading up on calories. Scott and Virgil, just because they were big men, and they ate a ton of food as a matter of course. John, slighter, at least was a bit more moderate. But not by much. Jeff winced at the thought of his food budget that month.

Scott stopped with a piece of bacon half way to his mouth. "Dad! What are you doing back? I thought you had that meeting with the contractors today?"

Jeff sat down at his place, and accepted a full plate from Onaha that appeared magically in front of him with a smile. She answered the smile and went back to the stove to turn the next batch of pancakes.

"I cancelled it," Jeff stated flatly.

His sons all stared at him in bewilderment. The meeting was a key piece of a new project Jeff was putting together. It was a complex plan, and Jeff had been working night and day for the last month on it, in between the emergencies that had come up in the last few weeks. For Jeff to cancel the meeting meant some disaster had taken place.

It didn't take long for the penny to drop. It was Virgil who was the first to get it.

"What has Allie done now?" he asked with a slight grin.

Jeff looked up quickly, swallowing down the anger that wanted to burst out of him at that question. But he held his tongue. Before yesterday, it would have been him asking that very question. Instead, he just watched the reactions of his elder sons.

Gordon burst out laughing. "Oh, this should be really good. I mean, for you to cancel that meeting!" Gordon let his sentence hang off without finishing the thought, waving his fork for emphasis.

Gordon was six years older than Alan, and Jeff had thought they'd always been fairly close. After all, Gordon was delighted to finally have a younger brother. But with Gordon's push for, the Olympic Games sparking an early maturity, and Alan's physical distance putting him in Kansas, clearly that closeness had been lost. More the pity, that, Jeff thought.

"So much for this trip helping you to have some father/son bonding time, and getting to work some things out," John said very quietly, clearly saddened.

Scott just had a tired, world weary look to his face that told Jeff his patience was wearing thin, and that he felt exactly as Jeff himself had. Or, at least he had until yesterday.

So instead of going into Alan's latest escapade, as he would have 24 hours previously, treating his sons as equals, and using them as a sounding board, all he said was "We can dispense with 'Operation Coverup' now. There is no need for it.

That silenced any amusement immediately. They'd been careful to explain away any alarms, and make sure Alan would not see any of the Thunderbirds as they took off, but it hadn't been needed often in the few weeks Alan had been back on the island. There had been a few calls, but recuses of the caliber that required their help could be weeks or even months apart. But it had been an island wide conspiracy. Even Fermat and TinTin were in on it. Or were they? Jeff suddenly wondered. But he shelved that line of thought as a glass shattering on the kitchen floor made him return to the present. Onaha was staring at him in stunning silence, the glass at her feet, falling in shards where it lay when it had slipped from Onaha's fingers as she turned towards him. He smiled at the dumbfounded faces looking back at him.

As usual, it was Gordon who broke the silence first. "But I thought . . . I mean, you weren't going to tell him . . . "

Jeff looked at his red-headed fish. "I didn't. He knew. He's always known."

"What?!" Scott exploded. "How? Why didn't he say anything?"

Jeff waved a hand and cut him off. "He thought we wanted it secret from him for a reason, so he didn't say anything."

John smiled. "Shouldn't be a surprise, I guess. He is a Tracy."

"All that work! Having him live with Grandma. Geez," Virgil groaned. "He could have been here all along."

Jeff shrugged. "I wanted him to have as normal a childhood as possible, and Mother agreed. I still think that was the right situation for him, regardless. "

"Well, cool!" Gordon said, clearly delighted. "Then we can start him training."

"He'll need flight training, first," Scott commented.

"Yep," Virgil agreed. "And some basic mechanics."

Before the conversation could devolve into further plans, Jeff held up a hand for silence.

"First, Alan already has a pilot's license, as he has informed me. He's done everything that he can given his age, up to and including some experience with jets. He probably flies as well as any of us, just as a guess. Mom had him in lessons since he was seven."

The stunned silence was absolute. Even Onaha and Kyrano were just staring at him.

"Secondly, I've been informed that Alan detests everything and anything about International Rescue, and plans to have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with it. Ever. Basically, he blames IR for taking his family away."

The chasm of silence that greeted this was beyond deep.

Into that abyss, Jeff let the final shoe drop. He knew it was petty of him. He knew it was his fault. But misery loved company, and that was the only justification that he could make. "And I was told in no uncertain terms by Anne Marie, who bore the brunt of this, not so . . . small . . . meltdown yesterday afternoon, that Alan informed her that that he is now eleven. And has been for nearly a week."

And nobody was brave enough to say a single word as this little fact sunk in.


	10. Chapter 10

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER TEN**

When Alan woke up the next morning, he was shocked to see that it was nearly time for lunch. He couldn't believe that he had slept that long. The last thing he remembered was being on the plane coming home. That brought back to mind the whole fiasco of the day before. Scowling to himself, and rubbing his eyes, he got up to look outside.

Both pools were empty and quiet, so Gordon must be in the gym in the back of the house, near the infirmary. He couldn't hear anything except the normal sounds of the island, so everybody else was probably working. Good. He didn't want to have to see anybody in the family if at all possible.

He frowned as he remembered more about the day before. It was going to be worse now that everybody knew they'd missed his birthday. He shouldn't have told them. He shouldn't have HAD to tell them, either. Now they'd try to make it up to him, and try to make out like they hadn't meant it, but he knew better. They were just feeling guilty and he didn't want any part of it.

So stalling, he checked his computer for any news from Mr. McCutcheon. What he saw made him smile for the first time in a very long time. The offer on the Kansas farm had been accepted. Mr. McCutcheon informed him that the real estate agent he had hired would take care of all tasks involved in the closing, and since Alan was a minor, and the lock company was actually buying the property, he would have the accountant he'd hired sign for the company, since she would actually be wiring the money.

Alan felt a weight leave his shoulders. He had his home. Whatever happened in the future, he could always go home, and now nobody would be able to take it away from him. It would still be a long time before he was a grown up, though.

Feeling restless, he didn't feel like working on his locks right now. He wasn't getting very much done anyway. Aimlessly he headed for his door. He wasn't hungry, and there really wasn't much else to do except maybe play a video game or watch TV. And those were all in the lounge. Jeff didn't allow video games in any of the bedrooms.

He had just opened his door when a loud klaxon went off, making him jump. The villa erupted into action. Running feet, his brother's voices, and commotion from his father's office downstairs on the second floor. Ducking back into his room, Alan sat on the end of his bed and covered his ears. It was loud, and one more indicator of the hated family business. That was the only thing that he hadn't heard before. That or the shouting orders that nobody was making any attempt to hide anymore.

The klaxon cut off, and Alan heard the sound of the Thunderbird One's engines. All the noises that everybody had always tried to tell him were thunder, or planes overhead, or some other idiotic suggestion. Alan scowled. They always thought he was so stupid.

Once the house was quiet again, Alan sighed and headed once again for the lounge and the video games. At least his family was out of the way and nobody would bug him. But he was absolutely bored out of his mind, as usual. Nothing to do, nobody to play with, and people who didn't want him around. He just sighed again and headed for the stairs. He really wished he was back in Kansas. There was always somebody to play with there.

Reaching the lounge, Alan was surprised to see Onaha still puttering in the kitchen. She looked up when she saw him, her face concerned. Putting down the towel she'd been holding, she just walked out of the kitchen, sat down on the couch and held her arms out, without saying a word.

That did it. Running to her, Alan just buried his face in her shoulder, and sobbed out his unhappiness. He just let himself be comforted by one of the few people on the island that actually seemed to like him, at least a little.

TB TB TB TB TB

To Alan's everlasting gratitude Onaha didn't make a big deal out of it. Clearly she'd been told, as had his brothers, that he knew about IR, because they were making no effort to hide it anymore. He assumed they all knew everything else too. But Onaha just waited until he'd calmed down, then asked if he wanted to help her make sandwiches for the guys when they got back. And how about baking some cookies?

That seemed like a good idea to Alan. He was so tired of thinking, and it was nice to hear what Tin Tin was doing and how she liked Malaysia. They talked quietly as they worked, about school, his little league team in Kansas, and other routine, everyday things. Alan felt like he had back in Kansas, helping his Grandmother in the kitchen as they baked, or made the evening meal. This was familiar and normal.

They finished making a huge meal of sandwiches, soup and salad. The kind of food that would keep for however long it took for the rescue to finish up. It could be a few hours, or it could be many, there was just no way of knowing. To fill the time, they baked several batches of cookies, as well as a few pies. Onaha wasn't surprised that Alan was a great help in the kitchen, and knew quite a bit about cooking as well as seeming to enjoy it. Since Ruth Tracy had been an excellent cook and had enjoyed puttering in the kitchen, it made sense that she had passed that onto her youngest grandson.

Finally, in the early evening, Onaha was pulling out the last of the pies, and telling Alan some of the amusing things TinTin had said about her extended family as he cleaned up the last cookies sheets, when Jeff came down, looking tired. He should be tired, Onaha thought, as Kyrano came up silently behind Jeff. They'd both been in Command and Control, along with Brains, and they'd been working for nearly 7 hours straight. And that was after Jeff had come back very late last night, with Alan. She was grateful that she had had so much to do in the kitchen, and that she'd been able to keep the youngest Tracy busy all afternoon and into the evening.

"Is everything all right?" Onaha asked carefully, making sure that he noted Alan's presence, who was in the process of drying the cookie sheets and studiously ignoring his father.

He nodded at her, indicating he got her point. "Fine. Pretty routine, actually," he was happy to report. "Just long. There was a lot of debris."

A bridge had collapsed due to a flash flood. They got everybody out and accounted for, and really just needed to have Thunderbird 2 do some heavy lifting. Gordon and John had both gone along in case there was an issue in the water below, which there wasn't. They were just doing some final checks of the area, and then were going to head back.

"Good," Onaha said, relieved.

Kyrano smiled at Alan as he took a cookie, who grinned back, making Jeff's heart ache and feel slightly jealous.

"I saw you sent the whole complement. They weren't needed, I take it?" Onaha asked.

"No, thank heavens," Jeff sighed in relief.

The Beleghants both nodded in silent agreement. This could often be the hardest part – taking care of the aftermath.

"Glad to see you've made a lot of food. Gordon has already said he's starved."

"He always is," Onaha laughed. "Alan and I made plenty.

Jeff smiled at his son. "Good job, Alan."

Alan didn't look up from wiping down the counters. Kyrano looked at him. "Thunderbird One is going to land soon. Why don't you and your father go watch it? It's an amazing sight."

That got an instant response.

"No!" Alan shouted, coming alive, clearly angry at the very suggestion. Whether it was the Thunderbird, or going with his father, none knew. But, throwing his towel onto the counter, Alan darted out of the room and quickly disappeared deeper into the house.

The three adults watched after him sadly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy," Kyrano said quietly, looking at his employer, who was looking devastated.

"Don't be," Jeff said, "I certainly can't do anything right in Alan's eyes right now, and I think I can safely assume that anything to do with International Rescue is going to be off limits as well. All we can do is try."

"It will get better," Onaha commented firmly. "Two steps forward, one back. Leave him alone for now. And by the way, I did manage to get him to eat a sandwich. And some cookies. Give him time. It's only been a few weeks since Ruth died. You are all still adjusting. And Alan is a Tracy through and through. You all deal with fear by turning it into anger. None of you ever turn passive. Nor do any of you tend to be subtle."

Jeff had to laugh at that observation. There was absolute truth to that. The 'Tracy Temper' wasn't a catch phrase in his family for nothing. Lucy had been the same, so it was no wonder all five of their sons reacted the same way.

"Thank you. For everything." He looked at the couple who were family to himself and his sons, grateful yet again to have them in their lives. He knew that as a single parent, he lacked the things that Lucy had been able to provide. The empathy, and the loving touch of a mother. It was so hard trying to be both a mother and father, and he knew he wasn't doing such a hot job at either, right at the moment.

But even as he was aware of his lack, and the frustrations of being a single father, he also knew he was blessed with the people around him. Kyrano and Onaha were prime examples. The quiet guidance they both provided him (and his sons) was heartfelt, meaningful, and absolutely priceless. He looked at them once more, feeling unending gratitude.

"I absolutely can't thank you enough for everything you've done. I know you've gone out of your way to help Alan. I know that both of you have been spending a lot of time with him. I'm just now starting to realize how much damage I've done, and that you've both been doing your best to mitigate it. I don't know what I'd do without you. What any of us would do."

Onaha just smiled and waved her hand dismissively. "Part of being family," she said, unconsciously echoing Jeff's own thoughts. "Now, you best come get something to eat before your boys get back and there isn't anything left."


	11. Chapter 11

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Thoughtfully, Virgil walked into his father's office late the next morning. They were going to debrief the mission from the day before. As they had all returned in the evening, and were hungry and tired, they'd put it off until they'd all had a decent sleep. As a result, breakfast that morning had been more like a continental affair, with each helping themselves as they got up.

"Wow, you're thinking hard," Gordon comment upon seeing his brother. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Shut up, Gordon," Virgil uncharacteristically snapped back.

Jeff looked up at the sharp response. "Virgil? What's going on?"

Even Gordon looked taken aback at Virgil's rare vehemence.

Virgil dropped heavily onto the couch, sighing deeply. "What else? Alan."

Jeff let the sheaf of papers he'd been looking at drop back to the desk, and leaned back, folding his arms. "Scott, shut the door, please. Virgil, where is Alan right now?"

As Scott complied, Virgil answered. "In the lounge, watching TV, as usual."

Jeff nodded thoughtfully. "So what happened?"

"I asked him if he wanted to help me with Two this afternoon, after we were done with lunch. Now that it's not a secret, I thought he'd like to help with the maintenance. You know how mechanically minded he is," he finished with a shrug.

"Let me guess," Scott said wryly, "He about took your head off."

"Pretty much," Virgil admitted. "Essentially it was 'no way in hell'." Ignoring his father's rebuke about his language, Virgil continued. "In any way he could possibly get it across."

"I got the same thing this morning. I asked if he wanted to see One," Scott confessed.

"Glad I didn't go with my plan to show him Four," Gordon snickered.

"Probably not the best approach," John commented. "Considering how he feels about International Rescue. And given what I heard about Alan's reaction to Kyrano's suggestion that he watch TB1 land last night."

"That had as much to do with the face that Kyrano suggested he watch with me," Jeff pointed out, "As it had to do with anything else. I'm not his favorite person right now," he finished sadly.

A glum silence fell on the group for a moment as they took this in.

Into the void, Scott spoke. "I guess I really thought that regardless of how he felt about International Rescue, he'd be fascinated with the Thunderbirds, once he saw them up close. He has always loved models, and putting pieces together. He's a natural mechanic."

"But clearly, Alan doesn't think so," John pointed out.

Jeff nodded slowly. "Clearly. And it's too bad, because he really will be fascinated with them, once he's able to separate the 'birds from the actual issues he has with us."

A glum silence settled over the group.

"I'd really love for him to be part of this," Gordon said softly. "It'd be fun."

"I agree," Virgil said, nodding. "Plus the fact that he'd be terrific help, as well as just fun to have around."

"Being part of IR is a choice, boys," Jeff stated. "Nobody has to be involved if they don't want to. That goes for all of you," he added, looking around, then continued. "And right now, Alan doesn't want to be part of it, so we accept that decision."

Jeff rolled his eyes as the other four in the room immediately drew in breath to argue. "Yes, yes, we're all aware that decision has to do with other issues, but for the time being, that's the way it is."

Scott groaned, rubbing his face, then spoke. "You know, if it was clear that he really wouldn't like puttering around with the 'birds, I'd leave it alone. But it's so obvious that he'd love them! He loves going fast, flying, and engines. Everything about him just screams that it's a good fit!"

"I know, I know," Jeff agreed quietly. "But it really is his choice. And right now, he wants to be as far away from International Rescue as he can get. So we honor that. And work on our own relationship with him."

Silence descended once again. These were men who thrived on action and movement. Trying to delve into relationships was hard work for anybody, but when so much was riding on the outcome, it was even more difficult. It was times like these that Jeff really despaired of being a single parent. Lucy had always seemed to know instinctively what to do, even when Jeff had been at a complete loss. Like right now.

"What are we going to do, Dad?" Virgil spoke up, an edge of desperation in his voice. "It just seems that anything I say to him is the wrong."

"Join the club," muttered Gordon.

"Give it time, I guess," Jeff said calmly, although he wasn't fooling anybody. He was as worried as they all were.

Finally, changing the subject in order to bring the frustrated silence to a close, he got them going on to the debrief.

TB TB TB TB TB

Lunch was the first meal together as a family since Jeff and Alan had returned from New York, and the atmosphere, while not charged with tension as it had been, was clearly uncomfortable. Alan sat silently at the table, moving his food around on his plate, but not eating a bite, while the others tried to carry on some semblance of a conversation and engage Alan. None of it worked very well.

Jeff even asked Alan if he'd like something different to eat, and his youngest son just shook his head, and asked if he could be excused. It was an indication of how worried Jeff was that he agreed.

They all watched as Alan left the room, then glumly feel to eating again. None of them were particularly hungry.

After a moment, Jeff spoke up, redirecting their thoughts. "John, I need you to take Tracy Two and fly to Kansas this afternoon. I've signed the papers selling the farm, and I need them delivered as soon as possible. They buyer wants a quick close."

John shrugged. "Sure, I can leave now, if you want."

Jeff laughed slightly. "Finish eating first. And why don't you plan to spend the night. You can also make arrangements for the furniture left in the house to be put in storage with the rest. Maybe see if you can find the boxes with Alan's things as well. He could use something to do, and all his toys and books were packed with the house. And the familiarity of his things wouldn't hurt either." Jeff shook his head in disgust at himself. "I should have thought of that from the first," he muttered, barely audible.

John just nodded as they all dropped into silence once again. Yet again, the conversation always managed to come back to the problem they were most concerned with.

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan had just been heading towards the stairs when he heard his father's comment to John about flying Tracy Two to Kansas. Electrified, he drew back out of sight, and listened until he heard John's comment about 'leaving now'. On hearing that, Alan was moving before he even realized it. He could go home! Alan didn't think, he didn't try to plan, his mind was just filled with 'home'.

Moving as though he'd worked it out carefully beforehand, Alan was in the hanger before he even realized what he was doing, and onto the jet, with none the wiser. Going into the back, Alan found a cupboard he and Fermat had discovered one day while goofing around. It was just big enough for them to fit into, and if they fussed enough with it, they could get the latch to work from the inside if it wasn't slammed too hard. And with some blankets that were stored inside carefully rearranged, Alan could hide, and nobody would be the wiser.

Hardly acknowledging what he was doing, all Alan could think of was that he was actually going home. HIS home. Truly his home, now that his father had signed the papers. For the first time in a very long time, Alan felt like everything might be all right. The bleakness of life on the island, the boredom, and the feeling that he just couldn't live like that forever had been unbelievably draining. Now he was actually doing something about it. Alan felt like a giant weight had been lifted from him.

Thinking ahead, he realized that he was going to have a long walk ahead of him once they landed. The Tracys used an airstrip that Jeff had put in that was just long enough for Tracy Two, when he started commuting between New York and Kansas. It was on a piece of land he'd been able to acquire about 8 miles from the farm by road, but it was only a few miles away as the crow flies. Alan knew he'd have to hike, but it wasn't like he hadn't done it lots before, so it wasn't a big deal. But he may as well get as much sleep as he could right now. Especially since he couldn't come out of hiding during the flight. Settling down, with his mind at rest for the first time in a long time, Alan was asleep in moments.

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan woke up briefly when he felt the plane take off, then dropped off immediately again. He hadn't been sleeping all that well for a while, so now that he knew he was heading back to Kansas, exhaustion took over. He didn't wake up again until he felt the plane bumping along a runway. He was finally home!

Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he listened hard. The plane had stopped, but he knew there would be post-flight checks. John wouldn't be one to skip those kinds of things. He heard John's voice, and a strange voice answering, slamming doors, then more taxiing, the plane door opening, then slamming shut. Alan continued to wait patiently. Bumping noises outside the plane. Then . . . nothing. After he didn't hear anything more for quite a while, Alan stiffly emerged from his hiding place.

Looking around and stretching, he ducked to look out of a port hole. He grinned as he recognized the inside of the Tracy Hanger at the airstrip near the farm. He'd been right. John had landed at the airstrip near the farm. Alan had figured that would be the case since he'd taken Tracy Two. The family's newer, bigger and faster jet, Tracy One, was too big to land here. That had to land at a major airport. Alan had taken a chance that John would land Two here, and he was in luck.

Anyway, he was home, walk or no walk. Looking carefully out all of the windows, he didn't see anybody else. Clearly somebody had picked John up, so Alan was free to head to the house without being seen. Slipping out of the plane, Alan shivered. He'd forgotten how cold Kansas could be in March. Finding a jacket lying on a desk nearby, he grabbed it and put it on. It was huge, but at least it would be warm. And he'd warm up on his hike to the house. Trotting across the hanger, he opened the pedestrian door and looked out.

Alan smiled as he saw the wide open fields beyond the runway under a hazy late afternoon sky. They were the dusty tan of a late winter, dormant landscape waiting for spring. Alan grinned. Now this looked more like it. He was home. Making sure the area was deserted, Alan stepped out, and with a spring to his step, headed off across country, towards home.


	12. Chapter 12

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER TWELVE **

Alan covered the distance to the Tracy Farm was easily, although he did find himself wishing that he had his bike. He could have made it quicker, but this worked fine. He did his best not to think of anything as he walked except getting to the farm. The consequences of what he'd done were beginning to sink in. Up until then, Alan really hadn't thought much beyond the fact that John was taking a plane to Kansas. Now, practicality was sinking in. His Dad was going to be pissed. Alan would probably be grounded for life.

Not that it mattered much. What was there to be grounded from on the island? He never got to do anything anyway. Besides, they wouldn't notice that he was gone for a long time anyway. And maybe they wouldn't figure out where he'd gone. He could hide in the house if they came looking. There were lots of hiding places on the farm as well. But he wouldn't worry about that now, anyway. He was almost home!

When he saw the house, Alan grinned, pushed any other thoughts out of his mind, and picked up a jog. Reaching the driveway, he was thrilled to see that the For Sale sign was gone. He'd told Mr. McCutcheon that he'd wanted that taken down as soon as possible. He trotted down the gravel driveway, and quickly found the hidden key that only he and his Grandmother had known about. It was just in case he ever got locked out. Grinning, he headed up the wide porch steps and let himself in the front door. And froze.

This wasn't right. The house didn't look right. Move inside slowly, he carefully shut the front door behind him, and set the key on the small table next to the door. The living room looked bare. The couch was right, and the rocking chair next to the fire place. But the big table under the window where he'd always worked on jigsaw puzzles was gone. And the big old fashioned glass shaded lamp that sat on it. And the big area rug. The wing chairs were gone as well. And Grandma's knitting basket, and the various knick-knacks she always had set out. They'd all been here when they had come back here after the funeral. So where were they now?

Whirling, he swung to look at the dining room across the front hallway. The big dining room table was still there, overflowing the room with its size, as usual, but the monster hutch was gone. It had taken up the whole wall, making the room seem tiny, and had been crowded with china and family dishes from generations. It was all gone, too! The room looked so much bigger without that or the buffet that usually sat under the window.

Alan began to panic. This was the house he'd lived in, but it looked so different now, so impersonal. He darted through the swinging door into the kitchen, and was met with the same impersonal, familiar yet unfamiliar room like the living and dining rooms.

He burst from the kitchen to the small office behind the living room. Again, the large roll top desk that had always been stuffed with papers and all kinds of interesting things, was still there, but was stripped of the pictures that had sat on top of it, and the fascinating minutia that it had been filled with. All the other furniture save for one arm chair and a lamp were gone as well. This room had been crowded! Now it seemed overly large

Alan stared in disbelief, frozen, trying to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. Then hardly daring to think, he took off again, running up the stairs and into his grandmother's room. This was even worse. The big canon ball bed that had been in the family for generations was still there, but the handmade quilt that had always been on it was gone, replaced by a bed spread he'd never seen. All the pictures and books that had been scattered around the room were gone as well. The room felt huge, rather than crowded with the books and pictures and small tables his grandmother had kept around.

No. This couldn't be happening. Alan felt like he was in a nightmare. He moved down the upstairs hallway noting without much attention the pictures and tables that were missing, and slowed down as passed by the rooms that had been his brothers and arriving at the doorway to what had been his bedroom for the majority of his remembered life. Almost shaking, he pushed the door open, and looked into the room of a stranger.

Oh, it was his bed alright, but again, instead of the space themed bedspread that had always been on his bed, there was a generic, unfamiliar cover. The posters he'd had on the wall were gone. And his books as well. The models he'd put together that he'd placed proudly on shelves were missing as well, replaced with generic novels artfully placed to make the room look larger. Even his favorite nightlight of the rocket that looked like the one his father had taken into space was gone.

Backing out Alan leaned back against the hallway wall, and slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. This was the house that he and his family had lived in for so long, but everything that had made it a home was gone. There was nothing here now.

And with that thought, the loss hit him hard again, and this time, he gave into it. There was nothing left. He could never go home. Oh, he owned the house, and he was still very glad of that. And someday he could make it back into a home again. And he could (and would!) do that once he grew up. But right now? No. There was nothing left. It was as bad as the island.

And with that, Alan finally lost it, bursting into tears and sobbing as if his heart would break, as the loss of his Grandmother hit home, with all it entailed.

TB TB TB TB TB

After saying hello to the caretaker of the hanger who'd dropped by to greet him, John took the car they kept at the hanger, and dropped off the signed papers at the real estate office as requested. Since it took all of 5 minutes, he spent the remainder of the afternoon visiting friends and wandering around the small town. After that, he'd headed back to the hanger to check on the plane and pick up his overnight bag. He missed Kansas. This was ultimately home to him. The family may live on a South Pacific island or in New York the majority of the time, but Kansas was their roots. He didn't get out here nearly often enough.

Twilight was descending as he parked next to the hanger, when the ringing of his phone interrupted him. Ruefully he noted the caller.

"Hi, Dad. Yes the papers were delivered first thing," he said, grinning, before his father could say a word.

"John, is Alan with you?" His father demanded, ignoring his son's greeting.

John had to think a moment, mentally trying to change gears. "Allie? No, of course not." Then the ramifications sunk in. "Wait, what? Why? You can't find him?"

"No! We've searched everywhere."

John was stunned at his father's frantic tone. "We live on an island," he finished blankly. John was having a hard time wrapping his head around this.

He father's sigh brought him back to the conversation. "I know. We've searched the house and immediate grounds and the whole hanger complex, both above ground, and the IR Hangers. We've also searched the silos. Brains checked the locater program, and he's not in the compound. He's not anywhere! Scott and Virgil are out with the thermal imager overflying the jungle right now."

The thought of Alan out alone in the jungle made his blood run cold. "Dad, when did you last see him?"

"Nobody has seen him since he asked to be excused early from lunch. Are you sure he isn't with you?" Jeff asked, clearly grasping at straws.

John quickly hurried into the hanger, and over to the plane. "No, I never saw him, but let me check the plane. I wasn't exactly expecting him, so I wasn't looking either."

"I'll wait," Jeff said worriedly.

It wasn't but a moment later that John was looking into the cupboard that Alan had hidden in. "Dad, he was here. Looks like he stowed away in one of the back storage cupboards," John said, looking in disbelief at the rumpled blankets. "Why on earth would he do that?" He asked uncomprehendingly.

Jeff sighed in relief, grateful that his youngest son wasn't lost out in the jungle somewhere. He motioned for Gordon to call back the others from their search. He could feel the adrenaline draining out of him, as his red headed son hurried off to comply.

"Well, Kansas was his home for a long time," Jeff mused, trying to think like an 11 year old.

"Let me go check out the farm, and I'll get back to you. If he isn't there, I'll get the sheriff out looking, and check with his friends," John said, heading back out towards the car.

"Okay. Call as soon as possible," Jeff urged, worry edging it's way back into his voice once more.

"Will do."

TB TB TB TB TB

John made it to the farm house in record speed. He desperately hoped to find his brother there. If he was, John was split between killing the kid, and hugging him to death. Parking, he trotted up to the front door, suddenly realizing that he didn't have a key. It turned out not to matter. The front door was unlocked. Walking in, he was slightly taken aback. He'd know his father had stored all of the personal items from the house, and had had a decorator stage it for sale, but he was still surprised at how impersonal it looked.

"Alan?" He called. "Are you here?"

Looking around, he noted the key on the front table. Yep, Alan was here all right. That was where they all had left their keys when they'd come in. That brought back memories. Quickly shoving them aside, John concentrated on finding his little brother. Killing him was beginning to win out. Given how frantic his father had sounded, John was not happy.

Hearing a slight sound from above, his attention was immediately riveted towards the stairway. "Alan?"

Hearing nothing, he tried again. "Alan Shepard Tracy, if that's you, answer me right now!" Nothing. Oh, yeah, his little brother was in trouble.

Lips thinning, John headed up the stairs two at a time, and rounding the corner of the hallway, he stopped short at the sight of Alan. His little brother was sitting on the floor across from the open door of his bedroom, curled up tightly. His arms were wrapped around his knees, forehead touching his knees, and sobbing as if his heart would break.

All of John's anger melted away at the sight. Hurrying towards his youngest brother, he glanced into the open room, then did a double take. Alan's room was just like the rooms downstairs – generic and impersonal. Poor kid, no wonder he was so undone.

Dropping down onto the floor next to Alan, he pulled him onto his lap, and held him tight. "Shh, Allie. It's okay."

Alan uncurled enough to bury his face into his brother's chest. "I-I just w-wanted to come h-home," he sobbed, almost unintelligibly. "I-I just wanted to c-come back h-home."

John dropped his head back against the wall and shut his eyes at the pain in his little brother's voice, and hugged him tighter against him. "I'm so sorry, Allie," he muttered, absorbing Alan's palpable pain, "I'm really sorry."

The ringing of his phone in his back pocket startled him, and he grabbed at it. His father, of course. Alan didn't even seem to notice, holding onto John as if his heart was shattering and sobbing uncontrollably.

"John! Was he there? John? Did you find him?" Jeff's desperate voice came down the line.

Still holding tightly onto Alan, John wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Yeah, Dad, he's here," John sighed, leaning his head back once again, and closing his eyes.

The sounds of Alan's sobs filtered down the line to his frantic father, ratcheting up his fear another notch. "Is that Alan? Is he all right? Let me talk to him!"

"Dad!" John managed to get a word in edgewise. "Dad! He's all right."

"John, put him on the line!"

John was beginning to feel like a rope in a tug of war game. "Dad! Enough already, okay? I can only deal with one of you at a time," John snapped, "And right now I've pretty much got my hands full." He looked down at Alan, who hadn't even noticed that John was on the phone, clearly wrapped up in his own pain.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then, his father spoke again, calming somewhat. "I'm sorry, John. You're right. Do you need to call me back?"

John looked back down at Alan, and wrapped his arms tighter around the boy, rubbing his back. "No, But I think I'm going to be here awhile," he murmured. Resting his chin on the top of Alan's head, he quietly filled his father in on finding Alan, and what the child had said.

He heard Jeff's sigh as he understood. "Do you want to stay the night? Or do you want to come home. What do you think?" Jeff asked, finally calming down, now that he knew Alan was safe. Upset, but unhurt.

"We'll come home tonight," John said softly, holding his sobbing brother close. "I think we all need to be together and being here isn't going to help Alan any," he said as he looked around the familiar, yet unfamiliar upper hall of the long time Tracy family home. "This sure doesn't look like Grandma's house anymore," he muttered.

"Let me know when you leave," Jeff said, hating the fact that he wasn't there with them. "I'll be waiting up for you. Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to come out instead?"

John smiled involuntarily. "No, we'll be okay. I'm not going to leave until Alan's calmed down. He'll probably sleep all the way home on the plane. You don't have to wait up," he finished, knowing that saying that would be useless.

"Yeah, right," Jeff commented wryly, as he could still hear the unabated sobbing of his youngest son. "Thank you, John," he said, heartfelt.

"Yep. I'll call you soon," John said quietly, and rung off. Leaning back against the wall again, he settled in, prepared to wait as long as it took. Wrapping his arms tighter around his little brother once again, he let Alan continue to sob out his heartbreak into his older brother's chest.

"It'll get better, Allie, I promise," he murmured to his unheeding little brother. "It really will."


	13. Chapter 13

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Jeff and his four elder sons pressed in together so they could all be seen in the screen by Dr. Evers. The longtime friend of the family, and clinical psychologist smiled at them. She'd know Jeff since college, and had been a bridesmaid to Lucy in their wedding. She was also privy to IR, and was the psychologist on the payroll as needed following any close call or devastating rescue, or in case any needed to talk.

Since John had brought Alan home from Kansas, it seemed that the youngest Tracy's anger had burned out. But the situation wasn't any better. Alan was lethargic, and not interested in any interaction with the family, no matter how hard they had tried, and they did try. It hadn't taken long for Jeff to determine that they all needed some help. Thus, Jeff had sent a lengthy synopsis to Dr. Evers, not sparing a detail, and asked if they could talk to her.

"Good morning," she said, laughing at the five serious faces before her.

One by one, they each relaxed. "Hi, Dr. Evers," the chorus came back to her.

"Good morning, Belinda," Jeff said with a smile. "Thanks for getting back to us so fast."

She sobered. "No problem. You do have an issue on your hands, I don't need to tell you that."

"No," Jeff agreed.

"Okay, getting right to the point. First off, simply put, Alan is depressed. The signs are all there. The unhappiness, loss of appetite, trouble sleeping, moodiness, and the like. And the cause isn't all that surprising either. He is just, plainly put, grieving. He misses Ruth. I'm sure I don't have to explain that. He's lived with her for the majority of his life. She's been the center of his world." She shrugged. "It doesn't make it any easier on him, or on the rest of you, but there it is. Jeff, I'll send you some information of children and grief. You probably already have it, from back when Lucy died in that avalanche, but I'll email it anyway."

Jeff nodded, seriously. Alan had been 3 when Lucy was killed, not really old enough to understand, but the others had, and had needed help.

"And of course, I'll be available to Alan, and any of the rest of you as needed to deal with the loss," she said, making sure she met all of their eyes.

Jeff nodded again.

"And as for the rest of the situation, well, Alan is correct. You are all strangers to him," she said matter-of-factly.

Gordon objected to this. "We're just the same."

Dr. Evers laughed, hit a button, and suddenly, the picture of the five of them were was reflected back to them. Her disembodied voice came at them from the speakers. "Really? Think of how that looked to him!"

As she reappeared back on the screen again, they had to agree. "You are all adults now. You are involved in IR, or in Gordon's case – IR and training for the Olympics. American Heros. Jeff, you are a hero all over again. Remember, he's known about IR all along, and watched rescues on TV, knowing that the operatives were his family. That's pretty intimidating."

She continued. "Basically, you have to reconnect. And trust me, Alan isn't going to make it easy for you. For one thing, he's a Tracy. When have any of you ever done things the easy way? Secondly, he's absolutely right in blaming IR for diverting attention from him. Although that was taken as selfish behavior on his part, he is absolutely dead on correct. So his resentment against IR would be the same as if a new parent were introduced into the house. Or a new baby," she said pointedly, looking at the older boys.

They did have the grace to laugh. It hadn't always gone easily as each new sibling had been introduced. The phrase 'not another one' had been heard to be uttered more than once.

"Alan needs to understand that he is important. He wants to know that he is more important to each of you than a Thunderbird machine. And he is going to make all of your lives a living hell until he's convinced. The focus right now is IR, but it could be school, or Tracy Enterprises, or flying, or what have you. It really doesn't matter. "

She continued after taking in their intent expressions. Good, they were getting this. "Combine all this with the grief from having the one person who did make him a focus taken away, and you have a volatile mix. He's going to try to push every button, from every direction he can figure out with each one of you until he's certain. And it sounds like he's been doing a pretty good job of it all ready. You're going to have to prove that you actually do care about him, over and over and over again."

Slow nods all around. It made sense.

"But," she held up a hand to make sure they were paying attention. "This does not mean letting Alan run wild. Regular boundaries and discipline are important in this as well. Part of caring means that you don't let another person run out of control. Trust me, he'll try every boundary, probably twice at least, just like he's been doing. Just be consistent, and do not lose your temper! Step away, and think about things before you act."

Everybody absorbed this, and nodded understanding.

Virgil spoke up. "What about his birthday? We really screwed up that one. Should we do something now? I mean, we can't let it pass!"

Dr. Evers shuddered slightly. "Whatever you do, don't plan a surprise party. Too little, too late, and for all the wrong reasons."

Seeing the slightly guilty looks around, she thought that had probably been the idea that had been holding sway. "No, frankly none of you have really been around for his birthday for the last few years. That was normal. Getting a gift after the fact was normal. What was bad about this year was the fact that all of you forgot entirely, and he was right there with you. And even then, nobody remembered until he finally brought it up. To Alan, it was pretty clear that nobody was ever going to remember. "

She looked around all the faces to make sure they were absorbing what she was saying. "My guess is that Ruth always made sure you were reminded." She smiled slightly, trying to take the sting out of her words as she saw the guilty and chagrinned faces.

"So, my suggestion is that Jeff sit down with Alan at some point later on, when things are calmer and emotionally more stable, and ask Alan what he wants to do. Put it back to him. Then go from there. By that time, you'll know what to do."

They all nodded thoughtfully.

"But," she continued firmly, "as soon as each of you can, you each need to apologize to him."

Gordon interrupted. "But we have!" He protested.

"Let me guess, the day you found out, and a very heartfelt, I'm sorry," Dr. Evers said. At the confirmation, she continued. "No, not like that. I mean sit down and really explain what happened. Be clear, and be honest. Ruth always reminded you, you always get busy and forget other dates. That kind of thing. Whatever the situation is for each of you. Make him aware of the situation, and that you know you really messed up this time because he was here in the house. That will help him to understand that it wasn't him personally, that you never had to remember because Ruth made sure you remembered. And do this individually, not as a group. And privately, if possible. Pick your time, and make a real effort. He may not take it well, but you need to say it. In words. And he needs to hear it. He'll know you mean it, regardless of how he reacts. And if he acts like a child? Well, he is one. So deal with it."

Again, thoughtful nods.

"In addition, let him know how glad you are that he's living with you now. And Jeff? This will be even tougher for you. Likely Alan will forgive his brother's quicker than he will you. Not necessarily rational, but there it is. And wait awhile before you ask him what he wants to do for his birthday. Things are too raw right now, and this will likely be a minefield," she warned them all. "Jeff, you'll know when it's the right time."

Jeff nodded unhappily. He'd already pretty much figured out that he was the bad guy in this situation. And that really was the truth. His sons had excuses, but Jeff did not, and he knew it.

"Sucks to be you, Dad," Gordon smirked at his father. Virgil smacked him quickly. "Hey!" Gordon protested.

Jeff just rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Virgil."

Belinda Evers just smiled at the by play, then commented, "And I think I should start seeing him. Preferably as soon as possible."

Jeff nodded at that in heartfelt agreement. "How about tomorrow?" He asked wryly, as Dr. Evers laughed.

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan quietly accompanied his father to New York, and without any question or curiosity to Dr. Evers office. Jeff escorted him into the tastefully appointed office.

"Hi, Jeff," she smiled, standing up. "And hi, Alan. You've certainly grown."

Alan just looked seriously at her, reserving judgment. Jeff sighed in resignation. "Where do you want us?" he asked.

"You're going to wait here, and Alice will bring you coffee. You can work on your computer and cell phone to your hearts content until we are done. Alan and I are going to go across the hall."

Jeff looked surprised. "But I thought . . ."

"You thought wrong," Belinda Evers broke in, softening her reply with a smile.

"Okay. Allie, you all right with that?" Jeff asked, looking down at his son.

Alan just nodded indifferently, and went with Dr. Evers, as she put a hand on his shoulder and guided him out of the room, with a backwards reassuring look at Jeff.

Jeff just sighed again, and made himself comfortable. It was a good thing he trusted Belinda.

TB TB TB TB TB

Belinda Evers guided Alan into a room across the hall. It was comfortable looking, with various overstuffed chairs in the small space. "Sit anywhere you like," Dr. Evers motioned, as Alan hesitated. So he went to a chair at random, and sat down, resignedly.

Dr. Evers took another chair and regarded him thoughtfully. "Alan, anything you say here won't go anywhere else. Obviously I'll be talking to your father about generalities, but specifics are between you and me."

Alan just shrugged, and muttered a sullen, "Whatever." He so didn't want to be here. Dr. Evers was another friend of his father's and that was that. Jefferson Tracy always came first, that was clear. He tuned her out as she was still talking as he gazed absently around the room.

At first glance, it just looked like a regular waiting room, until he looked closer. There was a box of stuffed animals in the corner. On a low table against one of the walls was a group of small cars, and what looked like a track for them. Alan felt a stir of interest. As he looked closer, there were all kinds of interesting toys for all ages in unobtrusive nooks and crannies throughout the room. Then his attention was caught and held.

"See something interesting?" Dr. Evers said with a grin.

Alan looked at her, startled. She didn't look mad that he'd been ignoring her. Huh.

After a moment, he answered. "Uh-huh. What's that thing? Over there, in the corner behind the chair."

"Why don't you go take a look?" She said, smiling easily.

He looked at her for a moment, gauging her mood, and trying to decide if he should defy her because she was his Dad's friend, or . . . not. Curiosity won out, and Alan climbed out of the chair and headed over to the corner. Dr. Evers followed him, moving the chair in front of the . . . whatever it was . . . out of the way.

Alan studied the contraption of tracks, pullies, cables, and all manner of interesting stuff curiously, dropping to his knees in front of it. Dr. Evers joined him on the floor, leaning back against one of the chairs, her legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed. She looked comfortable in her slacks and shirt, sitting there on the floor with him, not at all like Alan thought a Psychiatrist would be.

"It's a set for making, I guess you call it a maze, for lack of a better term." She picked up a small rubber ball. "See, if you drop this in at the top," and she did so, "It follows the track down to the bottom."

Alan was fascinated. The ball rolled down the track, tripped a lever that opened a trapdoor, dropped through it, triggering another opening and the ball moved down onto the new track until it stopped at the bottom.

"You can build these as difficult or as simple as you want," Dr. Evers explained.

"This one looks really easy. I bet I could build a better one," Alan said.

"Go ahead. The parts are in the box over there. They will fit together any way you want them too."

Alan couldn't resist. Pretty soon he was deep in an elaborate plan, and constructing his maze happily, looking at each part and how it would fit together. Dr. Evers smiled. Alan was definitely part of the Tracy family. He had that engineering mind.

"What do you play with at home?" She asked.

Alan answered, rather abstractedly as he built another section. "Video games and stuff. Grandma got me an erector set, too. But this is cooler. But I did some neat stuff with that. I liked doing models, too."

"Liked? You don't now?"

"I do, but there isn't anything on the island. Everything is back home. Or at least it used to be. Dad says it's in storage, and he's going to have everything shipped to the island."

She nodded, quietly absorbing the subtext that Alan wasn't even aware that he was sharing. For one thing, home was Kansas, clearly, and not the island. She continued to ask about what he liked to do, and what he wanted to do if he could. What sports he liked, and what teams he'd been on in Kansas.

Suddenly, the time was up, and Alan couldn't believe it. He looked longingly at the half constructed maze. "Can I play with it next time?" He asked.

"Of course," she said with a laugh, as she ushered him out.

Jeff couldn't believe it when his son came back in the room, actually looking happy, for the first time since Ruth had died. He was even more astonished when Alan started telling him about this cool maze thing he'd been working on. He nodded and responded appropriately, as he sent a quick, amazed glance at Dr. Evers, who smiled like the Cheshire cat.


	14. Chapter 14

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Jeff and Alan had flown back that night, and again got in late. The next morning, Alan got up and wandered down to breakfast. He wasn't the enthusiastic child he'd been for a while the day before, but he didn't look so aggressively angry or unhappy either.

Jeff did as Dr. Evers had instructed him, and ignored Alan picking at his meal and just left him alone, talking idly over the day with his other sons, including Alan if he wished to say something, but not insisting on anything. Soon they were dispersing to work, and Gordon to the pool.

Alan did as he normally had done. He went up to his room, and tried once again to work on the latest version of his locks. They weren't going very well. At one point he heard a plane come in, and realized it was just Kyrano coming in with the supplies from the mainland. So he was surprised to hear his name being called. Gordon popped his head in the door. "Allie! Dad wants you down in the lounge," and then was gone.

Sullenly, Alan got up and wandered down. He wondered why he was in trouble now. But when he got down to the lounge, Jeff was just unpacking a very large box. "Here, Allie. Grab this."

Alan reflexively took one of the boxes coming out of the large box, and realized, with a start, that it was a component box of maze parts. More boxes of parts kept coming out until a large stack was on the floor, and his father was grinning at him. "You liked this so well at Belinda's, I thought you might like to have a set here."

Alan blinked up at his father in astonishment. When had his father ever noticed what he liked? "Yeah," He said, surprised. Then with more enthusiasm he said, "It's really cool. Thanks, Dad!"

Jeff basked in the genuine smile from his youngest son, as Alan began to poke around the boxes. "So how about you leave it in the lounge and work on it here, so we can see your creations?" Jeff shuddered internally at the thought of Alan up in his room, all day, and all alone. That wouldn't be happening if he had any way to help it.

"Yeah, okay," Alan agreed absently, already digging into the various boxes.

"This is really neat, Allie," Virgil said, looking in one of the boxes.

"I'll say," Gordon agreed, craning his neck to see.

"Okay, guys, that's enough. Leave Alan to it. Virgil, you have work to do on Two. I know for a fact that you haven't run those maintenance checks yet, and Gordon, I thought your coach wanted you swimming those endurance sets today. Scott, you, John and I have a conference call. If Alan agrees, you can poke around after dinner, but it's up to him. Okay Allie?" Jeff looked back at his youngest as he herded his protesting elder sons out to their tasks.

Alan looked over his shoulder. "Okay, Dad. And thanks!" He gave a brief grin, then turned back, already absorbed.

Jeff grinned back, then left the room, prodding his reluctant offspring in front of him. Like his sons, he'd have liked to look into the set as well. It was fascinating. But they did have work to do, and Alan didn't need them taking over his new toy. Looking back once more at his now immersed son, he smiled, then caught Onaha's eye, who smiled back at him, nodding her approval. She made a shooing motion at him, and laughing, he headed for his office, thinking maybe he'd done something right for the first time in a long time.

TB TB TB TB TB

The next day, Gordon had finished his workout for the morning, and actually had some time to kill. He didn't feel like working on TB 4, and honestly, there wasn't much else to do. If he went upstairs to the office area, he'd get roped into helping Virgil on Two, or proof reading for Johnny, or getting a lesson on the Tracy Enterprises side of things from his Dad or Scott. Or worse yet, Dad might remember that he was supposed to be home schooling. He'd duck that as long as he could.

Rubbing his hair with a towel, hoping to get it to dry quicker, he wandered down to the lounge, hoping Onaha was baking and he could snitch something before Scott got it all. Dropping his towel on his shoulders, he followed his nose towards what smelled like cookies baking. He found fresh cookies, and grinned at Onaha as he snagged a couple, then saw Alan.

Alan was working happily on the maze for the day. He'd deconstructed the previous day's work, and was obviously trying some other ideas. Gordon wandered over.

"That is so cool, Allie," he said, and meant it. It really was pretty fascinating. Might be just the cure for boredom. "Can I help?"

Alan studied him carefully, making Gordon feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. Gordon froze, waiting. Allie was so volatile these days that you never knew if he was going to lash out, or just ignore you. Not that he blamed him. Gordon just didn't want to be in the firing zone if he was going to melt down.

Finally, Alan mumbled, "I guess."

Gordon decided that that was safe enough, and, since Alan didn't look like he was going to explode in the immediate future, he dropped to the floor next to his brother, and began poking through the parts. Pretty soon both were deep into the maze, expanding and building it bigger and taller, rather than just taking up the corner. Alan soon relaxed as Gordon didn't push or try to take over, but just seemed to enjoy himself.

They were half done when they were called for lunch, and were deep in a discussion of ideas, and halfway through their meal, by the time the rest of the family joined them.

Jeff took in the deep discussion, the half built (huge) maze, and the food on Alan's plate that actually had inroads made on it. This was looking good, and if he could just avoid any pitfalls during the meal, they should be fine. Unconsciously echoing Gordon's thoughts earlier, he scanned Alan for any sign of volatility, and was relieved to just see the Alan looked normal, if more quiet than usual. Slowly, ever so slowly, his child was beginning to show up again, for a few moments here and there. Jeff would gladly take whatever he could get.

"Well, you two started early," Jeff commented, nodding at their plates, as he took his seat, followed by John and Scott, who were still deep in the discussion of the project they'd been working. Virgil hurried in, still drying his hands from a quick clean up.

Gordon looked up from the drawing the two had sketched on a napkin that lay between them. "Nah, we were on time. You guys are just late!"

Alan didn't look up, or acknowledge his father, and Jeff didn't push it, per Dr. Evers advice. Pick your battles and only deal with the important stuff. Let him come to you on his own timetable. Enforce the normal rules, ie chores, bedtime, language, etc., but just keep him in bounds. Don't make any issues.

Lunch was the normal rush, and the talk was half business, half IR. But the atmosphere was congenial and not tense as in the last couple of weeks. Alan didn't join in the talk, but he wasn't aggressively disagreeable or confrontational either, which was a nice change. And although he didn't finish what was on his plate, he definitely ate over half. Jeff took that as a win.

Jeff was the last of the elder Tracy's to leave the table. Scott, John and Virgil had vanished as quickly as they'd come, but Jeff left more slowly, observing his two younger sons. He was happy with what he saw. It would be good for Alan to be around the lighthearted Gordon more, and just as good for Gordon to remember that he was essentially a kid as well. An older teenager, but still. He was so serious about his training that goofing around with Alan would be a nice change. Maybe they'd regain the closeness they'd once shared.

As he left to go back up to the office, he told them to help Onaha with the clean up, and warned them not to completely take over the room with the maze, and that he'd look forward to seeing the completed construction. Would they wait to run it until they were all together for dinner?

Gordon chortled. "Define 'take over'?"

Jeff gave a mock glare, and tousled Alan's hair. He was rewarded by the fact that not only did Alan not move away, but actually gave him a small smile, before turning back to the plans on the napkin.

Jeff went back to work feeling better than he had in a long time.

TB TB TB TB TB

Gordon and Alan finished work on the maze, and were pleased with their creation. After they finished, Alan wandered over to the video game console, and dropped onto the couch, picking up one of the controllers listlessly. Gordon joined him.

"Move over!" He said grabbing another controller.

Alan glared at him. "Why? Don't you have to swim or something?"

"Nope, this is my afternoon off. I have to do some more laps tonight, but I'm free this afternoon, and I feel like beating you senseless today."

Alan snorted. "Good luck. I've had lots of practice on the new one. Grandma got it for me."

"Yeah, well, too bad. I've been practicing on it for a while, too."

Alan looked at him incredulously. "Beating Virgil? Like that's practicing."

"Put your money where your mouth is, sprout!" Gordon challenged.

"You're on," Alan shot back and got up to set the game up. When he sat back down, Gordon was looking at him seriously.

"Allie, I'm really sorry about missing your birthday."

Alan just shrugged uncomfortably, toying with his controller.

"No, I'm serious. But I don't think you get it."

"What's to get?" Alan mumbled, still looking anyplace but at Gordon.

"You don't know it, but Dad and the guys are really, really bad about remembering dates. Your birthday is about the only one they ever got on time, and that's because Grandma made sure that we knew. She said since you were so far away, we needed to at least remember yours."

Alan looked at him, startled. "You're kidding!" he blurted. He'd never heard this before.

Gordon shook his head, grinning. "Nope, cross my heart. When we were all little, it wasn't hard to remember because we'd all go trumpeting around that our birthday was coming up, and making lists of what we wanted. And Mom always remembered, so Dad was off the hook."

"Besides, Dad's forgetfulness is useful. I've gotten a lot of mileage out of it," Gordon continued. "When I was at school, I used to mark on my calendar how many days it would be before I got a call from Dad, apologizing all over himself. I liked it, because the longer he forgot, the better presents I got."

Alan was looking at Gordon with his jaw hanging open, dumbfounded. "Really?"

"Yep," Gordon said, grinning. "How do you think I scored both that new high end laptop, AND the cliff diving trip with Dad to Acapulco last year? He forgot for 16 days. That was his record."

"No way," Alan breathed.

"Uh huh," Gordon affirmed. Then he turned serious. "Did you ever think Dad would let me go cliff diving? No way. So it isn't you, Allie. Dad didn't forget you. He's just really bad with dates. Mom used to give him crap all the time about the fact that he could remember a business meeting 3 months out, and forget their anniversary every single year. Anyway, I can tell you, he feels terrible. You should have seen him the morning you got back from New York. You should get a really good present out of this one."

Alan looked thoughtful. This was a new slant on things. But still, he was right here, not at school or off with Grandma. You'd think maybe Dad wouldn't be quite that bad. But Gordon didn't lie, and he_ had_ gotten both the laptop and the cliff diving trip last year. Alan had wondered briefly about it at the time. Dad had been so dead set against the cliff diving that Gordie had been lobbying hard for, that it had seemed kind of odd when he changed his mind.

"I'm really sorry, Allie," Gordon said, serious once again. "Even if Dad and the guys didn't remember, I should have. Especially since you're finally here. And I'm glad you are. I've been pushing to have you come live on the island for the last year."

"You have?" Alan's brow furrowed. This was also news to him.

"Un-huh. I hate being the youngest. Besides, you're more fun than the old fogies."

Alan shrugged. He looked back at the game console. "Dad doesn't want me here. I'm in the way of IR."

"No way!" Gordon looked shocked. "You mean you think that's why Dad had you living with Grandma?! That wasn't it at all!"

Alan looked up. "No? Then why not," he challenged, voice hard.

"He wanted you to have the same things we had. Getting to go to the public school in Kansas, having friends in walking distance, riding bikes, having a home to go to. He didn't want you to have to go to boarding school so soon. He would have had you move to the island, but you were so happy with Grandma, and you had so much stuff you were doing, and you had friends and school. He kept saying how much he missed you. We all did. But you made Grandma so happy, too. It was always hard after you left after being here for vacation. Dad was always depressed for a long time."

Alan sat frozen, stunned.

"Seriously, Al. I'm sorry for missing your birthday, but you have no idea how glad I am that you're living here now. I just wish Grandma was living here too."

Alan nodded slowly, "I do too," he said softly, missing his Grandmother, once again.

Gordon decided that it was time to change the subject. "Now I need to fry you. Watch and learn, Sprout!" And with that, Gordon started the game.

And Alan had to scramble to get grab his controller, and catch up. The battle was on. And just like that, they were okay again.


	15. Chapter 15

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

_(Note - Final chapter count will be 23, give or take depending on how much tweaking I do. I never seem to be able to leave well enough alone.)_

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Over the next days, life settled into a pattern. Alan and Jeff saw Dr. Evers, and the youngest Tracy was finally beginning to seem to settle into live on the island. He was still very quiet, and occasionally short tempered, but was a least a little less volatile.

Gordon was a regular participant with Alan during maze construction, as much as he could between his workout schedule, and Alan began to take a more active role in the kitchen with Onaha, helping to prepare the meals. He liked cooking, and Onaha always seemed to enjoy his help.

One afternoon, a rescue call had come in during the late afternoon, and as was beginning to become a habit, Alan headed for the kitchen to help make a huge meal for the returning operatives.

Luckily, this particular rescue wasn't all that difficult. A mild (relatively speaking) earthquake had hit in an under-developed area of South America. A small town had been pretty much leveled because of substandard construction. There weren't many casualties, but the town didn't have the technology to deal with rescuing those trapped.

Now they were all in the lounge, waiting for the returning heroes. A late supper was laid out, and Jeff had come down from Command and Control to update Alan and the Beleghants, leaving Brains to coordinate the withdrawal from the incident site.

Jeff was pouring himself another cup of coffee, and filling in some of the details before heading back up to Command and Control, when unexpectedly, Brains shot into the room. "M-Mr. Tracy-y! You need t-to get up to C-Comand a-and C-Control right n-now! T-There has been a-another tremor-r and Virgil w-was caught by some f-falling debris, and is trapped below a collapsed structure.

Jeff didn't waste a moment, and sprinted out of the room for the stairs, Brains on his heels. Onaha and Kyrano just looked at each other for a brief, horrified moment and then followed them out of the room, heading hurriedly for the back of the house and the infirmary.

TB TB TB TB TB

Many hours later, Scott exited the infirmary, leaned back on the adjacent wall, and huffed out a long breath of relief. Virgil would be okay. He'd finally woken up. Scott finally felt like he could leave, knowing his brother would be fine. Now all the aches and pains crashed in, and he was tired, dirty and really wanted about 18 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Pushing himself off the wall with no small effort, he headed somewhat unsteadily for the stairs. He could feel the adrenalin draining from him palpably.

He stopped short at the stair case where he saw Alan, sitting a third of the way up, leaning against the wall, arms clasped around his knees, face pale. He looked up when he saw Scott. "Is Virgie okay?" he asked in a small voice.

Scott wondered how long he'd been sitting there, but his mind refused to comprehend. He moved tiredly up the stairs and dropped down next to Alan. Draping his arm over his little brother's shoulders, he closed his eyes, and answered a heartfelt "Yes."

Feeling Alan sag against him in relief, he pulled the kid in close. "He'll be fine, but he's going to have one he - heck of a headache for a while."

The two just sat there for a while, in silence, taking in that their brother was going to be fine. Scott was still stunned by how fast it had happened, and how close it was. He was still shaken by the whole thing.

Scott and Alan hadn't moved when Jeff exited the infirmary sometime later, and turned towards the stairs, stopping suddenly at the sight of his oldest and youngest sitting there.

"Alan," Jeff said blankly, his mind moving far slower than usual. "What are you doing up? It's way past your bed time." Then he stopped, shook his head, and started again. "I'm sorry, Allie. Of course you're worried. I should have gotten word to you quicker. I seem to be apologizing a lot to you lately."

"It's okay," Alan mumbled, looking down.

"No, it's not okay," Jeff said quietly. He still felt like the worst kind of heel. "But, Virgil is fine. He's awake and irritated that he has to stay in the Infirmary for the next 24 hours, and he's grousing that Thunderbird 2 needs to be cleaned up."

Both Scott and Alan visibly relaxed further at that. Jeff grinned at them both. "If he's complaining, he's fine."

Scott snorted a wry agreement, and started to get stiffly to his feet.

"Okay, Alan, how about I take you up to bed now, huh?" Jeff said, looking at his youngest.

"I'll do it," Scott said, stretching. "You need to check in with Brains. I know he wants to talk to you before you head for bed. Or the infirmary, if you planning on spending what's left of the night there." He grinned knowingly at his father.

Jeff ignored the dig, looking at Scott with concern. "Are you sure? You look beat."

"I'm sure," Scott smiled at Alan. "Besides, I could use the company for a while." His face turned serious.

Jeff nodded slowly. From what he understood, the scene when Virgil had gone down had been horrific. Scott, John and Gordon had come back, all clearly shaken. He wouldn't be at all surprised to see some unusual sleeping arrangements tonight. He doubted any of them would want to be alone.

He turned his attention to Alan, who was getting up as well, looking almost as tired and stiff as Scott. He must have been there for quite a while. That thought gave Jeff another pang. It seemed like he was really screwing up with Alan every time he turned around no matter how much he tried. He met Alan's eye, and asked, ""Allie, are you okay with that? Or do you want me to go with you? Brains can wait a while, he'll be fine."

"No, it's okay, Scott can come," Alan said, no trace of any disappointment in his voice. Actually, he seemed to be rather pleased with the attention from Scott.

Jeff decided to take it at face value. "Okay. I'll look in on you in a little bit."

Alan nodded, as Scott threw an arm over his brother's shoulders as they trudged up the stairs. Their voices floated back to Jeff.

"How about I read you a story, Sprout?"

"Seriously?" Alan sounded affronted. "I've been reading on my own for years now," He complained. "I'm not a baby!"

"Humor me, okay? I haven't had time to read anything fun for a while, and the only way I'll get to is if I read it to a kid, okay?"

"Well . . . " Alan's voice trailed off as they turned the corner onto the landing and out of ear shot of their father.

Jeff grinned. Scott still had the touch, that was for sure. And Alan sounded more like himself that he had since Ruth had died. Besides, he got the feeling that Scott really didn't want to be alone right now. It had been a pretty near miss with Virgil. One inch another direction, and they would have lost him. He shuddered. This would be good for both of them.

TB TB TB TB TB

Scott sent his little brother to change, while he perused the books in the bookcase, somewhat shocked by what he found. When Alan came out of the bathroom, now in his pajamas, Scott looked up at him.

"You don't have much here, do you? These all look way too young for you."

Alan nodded, tiredly. "All the books I read were at Grandmas," he commented as he climbed into bed.

As Scott hid a wince, he realized he now understood exactly what his father had been feeling. How had they not noticed? He gazed around, much as his father had, noting that everything in the room was no longer appropriate for Alan's age. Well, he'd see to that. That was something they could fix.

"Okay, think you can stay awake for a few minutes? I need a quick shower, and I've got a book you'll like."

Alan nodded. He wondered idly what books Scott had that a kid would like. But he was being a pain again, thinking like that, and he didn't want Scott to be nice to him just because he had to. "You don't have to," he mumbled.

But no matter what he said, having Scott read to him sounded pretty good tonight. He'd been pretty scared that Virgil was really hurt. And Scott was being like the older brother that Alan loved and admired.

Scott stopped, and looked at Alan seriously. "Allie, I want to, okay?"

Alan nodded, relieved.

Scott was back quicker than Alan had thought possible, now clean and in night clothes, with a book in his hand.

"This has been one of my favorites for years. I've wanted to read it again, but haven't had the chance. Dad read it when he was a kid. It was one of his favorites, and he read it to me when I was about your age," he said, grinning at his brother, as he settled down on the bed next to his little brother, leaning back against the headboard.

Alan craned his neck to see. "Pilot Down, Presumed Dead?" He looked at his brother, incredulous. "Are you kidding? We're pilots. Why would we want to read something like that?"

That gave Scott a pang, once more. Alan _was_ a pilot, and they hadn't even known. He set the book in his lap for a moment and looked seriously at his little brother, who was now curled up at his side, cocooned in the blankets.

"Alan, I'm sorry," Scott said with feeling. "I'm really sorry for everything. I've really screwed up." Scott watched in concern as Alan looked down, and seemed to curl tighter into himself.

"Hey. Allie, hey, can you look at me?" He pleaded. He was rewarded by blue eyes looking warily up at him.

Scott smiled reassuringly. "I mean it. You were so happy with Grandma, and doing so well, I guess I just lost touch. I didn't realize how much of your life I'd missed. And how much I just missed you. I mean, you were playing soccer, running, taking flying lessons, and I should have known. I just keep thinking of all the things that I've missed that I would have loved to be a part of. And now I can't go back and change it. But I promise, it won't happen again. And I'm really glad you're back here on the island with us, now." He was relieved to see that Alan was paying attention, taking it in.

"And I am so sorry at how much I hurt you by not remembering your birthday." He sighed heavily looking up at the ceiling.

"It's okay," Alan said softly. "Gordie told me about how bad you guys are with dates. I didn't know." He shrugged, going for nonchalance. "It's not a big deal," he lied.

He didn't fool Scott for one minute. "No, Allie, it is a big deal." Scott said firmly, looking back down at his brother. "We just got used to Grandma telling us. That's our fault. Birthdays are important, and we got lazy. Anyway, I'm sorry." Alan was looking solemnly at him, and Scott was grateful that he hadn't pulled away. That was a step forward.

"I'm sorry that Grandma is gone, and I miss her, and I know you do too. But the one good thing that came out of losing her is that you're back here where you belong. With us. We need to be together." He smiled. "Am I forgiven?"

Alan looked down, playing with the blanket. "I guess," he mumbled. He wasn't really sure what to say. He was kind of overwhelmed.

Scott had hoped for a little more response than that, but he remembered what Dr. Evers had said, and just let it go, trusting that she was right. Draping his arm over his little brother's shoulders, he pulled him close, and opening the book, began to read.

TB TB TB TB TB

By the time Jeff finished with Brains, rousted John and Gordon from the infirmary and sent them off to bed, and finally got upstairs to check on Alan, easily another hour had passed. He wasn't terribly surprised to still see the faint light from the open doorway to Alan's room. And the sound of Scott's low voice as he got within hearing distance brought back a flood of memories. Scott had often read stories to one or more of his brothers over the years. He was good at it, and he enjoyed it. One nice thing in what had been a very tense night.

Jeff poked his head inside the dim room, lit only by the bedside lamp, and smiled at the sight. Scott had clearly showered and changed, as he was now in pajama pants, tee shirt, slippers, and a dark maroon robe. He sat stretched out on Alan's bed, leaning back against the headboard on top of the covers, ankles crossed, and relaxed. Alan was curled up next to him, under the covers, head on Scott's chest with his older brother's arm around him, eyes heavy. Actually, Jeff was surprised that he wasn't already asleep. He was certainly close.

Noticing the book in Scott's hands, he commented softly, "Oh, you're reading 'Pilot Down, Presumed Dead'. I haven't read that in years. Great book."

Scott stopped and smiled, looking up at his father. "I've been looking for an excuse to read it again, and Allie here hasn't ever read it."

"Really?" Jeff smiled at his youngest, who nodded sleepily. "Well, you'll like it. Don't stay up too much longer. It's late. You can finish it later."

"Okay," Scott nodded. "End of the chapter."

Jeff laughed. "I've heard that before. Good night."

"Night, Dad," Scott called as Jeff left the room.

This was good for both of them, Jeff thought. No need to enforce rules tonight. They both needed this tonight.

TB TB TB TB TB

When Jeff finally finished up with Brains, both men were exhausted. As the scientist headed towards a quick detour to the infirmary to check on Virgil on his way to his own house, Jeff decided that he needed to take one final trip around his own home.

It was well into the small hours of the morning, and before settling into the infirmary easy chair next to Virgil (where else), he wanted to make sure the rest of his sons were settled for the night, and not needing any reassurance or somebody to talk to. First stop was Alan.

Tired as he was, Jeff half grinned as he once again saw the soft light through the open door to Alan's bedroom as he made his way up the hallway. Only this time, there was no quiet voice reading out loud. Making his way silently into the room, he could see that Scott and Alan were in exactly the same positions they'd been in earlier - Scott sitting up against the headboard, and Alan curled up under the covers, half on/half off of his big brother. Only this time both were sound asleep.

With years of practice, Jeff took the book of Scott's lap where it had fallen, and set it on the nightstand without either sleeper stirring. Equally stealthy, he unfolded a blanket from the foot of the bed, and laid it over Scott. With one last grin at the sight of his eldest and youngest sons, he shut off the light and crept from the room, shutting the door behind him. Two down.

Neither John nor Gordon were in their rooms. Jeff had half expected this, and was unsurprised to find both in the lounge. The room was lit only by the soft glow of the large television screen, playing a B movie, clearly some sort of monster movie, if the fake Godzilla terrorizing the miniature town was anything to go by. Par for the course, after a tough rescue call.

John was stretched out diagonally on the couch, feet on the ottoman, sound asleep. In the space between him and the back of the couch, his younger brother was wedged in next to him, with John's arm protectively over him. Both John and Gordon were absolutely deep asleep and didn't so much as twitch as Jeff covered them both and turned off the TV.

Jeff paused a moment to look over the latest maze creation. This one was really huge. It took over the entire far wall and corner. And it was intricate. Looking closely, Jeff could see there were objects from around the house intermixed. A mug, tied on a string, which would spill a handful of pea gravel onto a plate, which in turn would trigger a lever, sending the next ball on it's way. Other items of that sort were interspersed throughout this latest version. Looking thoughtfully at the maze, then back at his second youngest son, Jeff considered. He might have to institute some ground rules here. Alan would most likely be just fine, but with Gordon instigating the escalation, this could get out of hand very quickly.

Shaking his head at the inventiveness of his sons, Jeff glanced back at the two on the couch once again. With the room now in darkness, John and Gordon were clearly out for the rest of the night. Satisfied, and lit only by the glow of the pools outside the wall of windows, Jeft made his way silently out to the hall. Two more down. One to go.

Unsurprisingly, Jeff planned to spend the night in the infirmary. They were all unsettled, and Jeff just wanted to hear his son breathe. The house was dark and silent, calm and peaceful. Jeff didn't turn on any lights, but made his way through with the ease of practice and familiarity, ending up at the medical center of the island.

Standing looking at Virgil in the dark room, he was happy to see that he, too, was comfortably sound asleep. Settling down in the large arm chair next to the bed, Jeff lay back and closed his eyes, saying a brief prayer of thanksgiving, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of Virgil's regular breathing.

_(Note, Pilot Down Presumed Dead is by Marjorie Phleger, and was written in 1975. It's available again through Amazon, and is a terrific book.)_


	16. Chapter 16

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Virgil decided that concussions sucked. There was no nice way to put it. The pounding headache, enforced bed rest, neuro checks, and the sheer boredom. He was awake now, and completely bored out of his mind. His father had finally left, much to his son's relief. He got that the man was worried, and sometimes, yes, it was nice to have him hover. But now he just wanted to get up and go about his day, and Jeff was implacable on the fact that he'd be in the infirmary until the next morning.

Seriously? He was the medic. What did they say? Doctors made the worst patients. It was kind of his father (not!) to remind him of that before he left the room, grinning as he said it. Irritated beyond belief, Virgil closed his eyes. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, so that was going to make it a long day.

His mind running through the issues he would have with Two after Gordon was done handling the maintenance this morning, he heard the door opening softly. Groaning to himself, he thought, not another neuro check already? He opened his eyes to snap at the person entering, but stopped when he saw Alan standing uncertainly in the doorway. He looked like a frightened rabbit, although being a Tracy, he'd hate the comparison.

"Allie?" Virgil asked quietly.

Alan's eyes lit up when he saw Virgil was awake, but he still paused in the doorway. That was when Virgil realized that Alan had never been allowed to see the aftermath of a rescue. He'd never seen one of them injured. Because they didn't think he knew about IR, and because he'd been off site, living with Grandma, he'd never even been on the outskirts of the chaos of the aftermath of a rescue. Virgil's heart went out to the kid. Shifting up in bed, he beckoned to his little brother. "I won't bite. Well, maybe if Gordon comes in with his creative wake-up techniques, then I'd make an exception."

Alan giggled, and relaxed. Making his way over to the bed, he looked his brother over carefully. "Are you okay?" He still sounded tentative as Virgil tousled his little brother's hair.

"Yeah. Just bored out of my mind."

Alan studied him, leaning against the high bed. "You don't look so good. Your face looks funny."

Virgil sighed. He hadn't seen himself in a mirror, but given how hot and tight his face felt, it was a good bet that it was going to be spectacular when the bruising all emerged. He knew he had at least one black eye. That accounted for the vision issues. Well, that and the concussion.

"I bet. And it's going to turn stunning colors in a few days."

Alan regarded him. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, concern still present in his voice.

That told Virgil right there just how bad the night before must have been for the kid. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. Reassure Alan, and relieve his boredom.

"Really, I'm okay. My head hurts, and I'm bored to death, that's all," he shrugged. "Feel like hanging around for a while? I could use the distraction."

Alan looked pleased. "Sure." Then his face lit up. "I know! I could read to you. Scotty read to me last night. It was a really great book."

Virgil looked at his little brother with interest. This was the most animated he'd seen Alan since Grandma had died. Way to go, Scooter. "He did, huh? What was the book?"

"Pilot Down, Presumed Dead."

Virgil burst into laughter, cutting it off when his head hurt.

Alan looked at him quizzically. "It's a good book," he said, defending his older brother's choice. "I really like it."

"Oh, I agree, it's a great book," Virgil grinned. "But I'm a downed pilot."

Alan couldn't argue with that. It was true. But he didn't get why it was funny. So he just ignored the comment. Adults really were strange sometimes. But still, it was a good book, and he could make Virgil feel better. So, instead, he announced, "I'll go get it," and darted out of the room and up the stairs.

Virgil raised the head of the bed, and lay back against his pillows, still grinning. So Scott had read to Alan, huh. Virgil remembered those nights, years ago, when Scott would read to them. Good times. And Alan reading to him? Might be perfect. Virgil could keep his eyes closed and keep the world from spinning, and hear a great book at the same time.

Alan was back quickly, book in hand, and began to climb up on the bed, but hesitated. "Is this going to hurt you? If I get up on the bed, I mean."

"Nope," Virgil shook his head, then decided that was not a good move when one had a concussion. "No," he added quieter. "That will be just fine."

Alan started to settle at the foot of the bed, but Virgil patted the side next to him, and was happy to see Alan readily move up into the spot. This was the most normal he'd seen Alan act in some time. Draping his arm over his younger brother, unconsciously imitating Scott's actions from the night before, he leaned back and closed his eyes, as Alan began to read.

TB TB TB TB TB

Virgil woke up just enough to hear his father and little brother talking softly.

"So you were reading to him?"

"Uh-huh. But he fell asleep. So now I'm just reading."

"Good job, Allie. Virgil needs to sleep. Can you do me a favor and stay with him this afternoon? Keep an eye on him? Let one of us know if he gets worse?"

"Okay. I can do that."

Virgil thought Alan sounded pleased at the responsibility. Good job, Dad. Maybe their track record with Allie was beginning to improve. It certainly couldn't get much worse, he thought idly. He began to wonder if he was dreaming. Alan didn't sound angry, like he had lately. But his father's tone still sounded careful, like he was afraid of setting off something explosive. So, maybe not a dream after all. They all sounded like that around Alan these days.

"How about I have Onaha bring you down some lunch when she brings Virgil's?"

"I guess that's okay. I'm not really hungry, though."

Virgil was grateful that Alan didn't sound angry, just matter of fact. He didn't think he could take anger right now. His head hurt too much.

"That's fine. Just eat what you want. And maybe you could get a nap, too, while you're watching Virgil. You were up pretty late last night."

Uh-oh. Too much, Dad. That will send Allie over the edge. But to his surprise, Alan's response was more curious.

"How can I watch him and sleep at the same time?"

His father's quiet laugh was a nice sound. One not heard all that much lately, that was for sure. "Just stretch out next to him. You'll be right there, and sure to wake up if he needs you."

"Ok. Maybe I will. I want to read now, though."

"Fine. Just call on the intercom if you need one of us. The more Virgil sleeps, though, the better it is for him. And thank you for keeping an eye on him."

Virgil thought he heard Alan answer but he lost the thread as he surrendered once more to a deep sleep.

TB TB TB TB TB

When Virgil woke again, Alan was sitting cross legged next to him on the bed, book open on his lap, reading. A cold lunch was on the over-bed table, and it looked like it held two plates. Remembering the vaguely heard conversation, Virgil stretched carefully, looking at the food. At the movement, Alan looked up.

"How long was I out?" He asked around a yawn.

Alan shrugged. "A pretty long time," he admitted. "Onaha brought lunch down a while ago," he said, jutting his chin towards the table, "And Dad put out some pills for you. He said they'd help your headache."

Virgil looked at the table thoughtfully. Meds definitely sounded good, but he was still somewhat queasy, so food wasn't that appetizing. But thinking of how difficult it had been to get Alan to eat, he knew there was no way the kid would eat if he didn't. Sighing to himself, and thinking about all the things he did for family, he carefully levered himself up and reached for the table.

Alan beat him to it, anticipating his need as soon as he started to move. He rolled the table closer, so Virgil could reach.

"Thanks, Sprout," Virgil grinned, relaxing back against the pillows. "What have we got? Have you tried any of it yet?"

Alan grinned back, as he shook his head. "Uh-uh," then admitted, with no little chagrin, "I fell asleep, too."

"Well, let's eat, then," Virgil said with an enthusiasm he didn't really feel, "and bring on the drugs! Those I definitely need."

Drugs in his system, and after having eaten a surprising amount of the bland, but still good, lunch (and incidentally, watch Alan actually eat something for a change, even if it wasn't enough to keep a mouse alive), Virgil pushed the table out of the way, and sighed. "I don't feel like sleeping, and Dad won't let me up." He cracked an eye open at Alan. "Any ideas for a way to kill the afternoon?"

Alan bit his lip thoughtfully, then said hesitantly, "Maybe . . . a game?" He sounded almost hopeful.

"Perfect," Virgil said. It did sound good. Non-active and something that would pass the time. "How about Monopoly?" That would take hours.

Alan grinned, and said he'd go get it.

"Take the lunch dishes up to Onaha while you're at it," Virgil called to Alan's back. Surprisingly, Alan came back without complaint, and headed out the door with the tray. Virgil decided that he could get used to having somebody wait on him.

A few hours later, they were deep into a highly competitive game of Monopoly. Alan was surprisingly good at it, and Virgil was having to struggle to keep up with him. Of course, the concussion had something to do with that.

John looked in on them, and grinned. "Who's winning?"

"I am," both Alan and Virgil announced at the same time

Laughing, John wandered in and looked over the game. "I'd say Alan is definitely ahead, if all those hotels are his," he announced with a grin.

Alan grinned back as Virgil grumbled, "Not all of them," as he rolled the dice.

John looked at the book on the bed, looking at the table. "Oh wow, I haven't read this in years," he exclaimed. "Great book! Was that what Scott read to you last night?" He asked, looking at Alan.

"Uh-huh. I really liked it."

"Like it?" John inquired. "You finished it?"

"Yep. When Virgie was asleep. I just started it again," Alan stated absently, watching Virgil make his move, carefully, then sighing in disappointment as he missed Alan's hotel by one place on the board.

John's brow furrowed. "You started it again? Why?"

Alan looked up at John in surprise. "Because I don't have any other books," he replied matter-of-factly.

"You have a bookcase full!" John argued.

"John!" Virgil said in irritation. "We're playing a game here!"

"Okay, okay," John threw up his hands. "I get it, I'm not wanted," he said with a grin, watching Virgil's nearly inaudibly growl in response. All of the Tracy's were competitive in whatever they did - whether it was a board game, or school, or . . . whatever. And none of them liked to lose, and Virgil was definitely losing, no matter what he said.

Tousling Alan's hair, and ignoring the resultant pout, he laughed again. "I'll leave you guys to it," and left the room.

Serious game play resumed, only to be interrupted once again, an indeterminate time later by John. This time, John had an armful of books, and proceeded to dump them on the foot of the bed before he dropped them.

"You weren't kidding that you didn't have anything to read. All the books in your bookcase are way too young for you. Why didn't you say anything?" John asked. All of the Tracy boys were readers, with books recommended from one to another as they grew into them.

Alan just shrugged as he looked over the pile with interest. "Everything was in my room at Grandma's. I don't know where they are now," he said absently, as he poked through the pile.

"And now they're in storage," John muttered with a wince, exchanging a serious look with Virgil over Alan's head while he was engrossed in the books.

"Wow," Alan muttered. "I've heard of some of these."

Virgil craned his neck to see, and started to grin. Looking up at John, he commented, "Great selection."

And it was. There was 'The Hobbit', by Tolkien, Juster's 'The Phantom Tollbooth', Madeline L'Engle's "A Wrinkle in Time', Susan Cooper's 'Over Sea Under Stone', 'The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardobe' by CS Lewis, Atwater's 'Mr. Popper's Penguins', E. L. Konisberg's 'From the Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, and several others.

John grinned. "Most of these are the first books of a series. If you like one, I'll get the rest for you. I know we've got them all, but whether they're in the library, or in somebody's room, I don't know. But they're around."

"Wow!" Alan breathed after examining the books more carefully. "These look great!" Then he looked back up at John, puzzled. "But there isn't anything in the library except text books and books on engineering and stuff. No stories. I looked."

Both Virgil and John had to laugh at that. "Oh ye of little faith," John quipped. "Come with me." He looked at Virgil. "I'm going to borrow Alan for a minute."

Virgil waved him away. "No problem," he said magnanimously.

"No cheating!" Alan warned as he followed John. He narrowed his eyes at Virgil. "I'll know!"

"Ha!" Virgil's voice floated after him as Alan and John exited the infirmary.

John led Alan through the house to a high ceiled, airy room set apart from the rest of the main house. The room was lined with bookcases, and reading tables were spaced in regular intervals throughout. It wasn't overly large, but still, it seemed spacious. Alan looked around and shrugged. Looked the same as always to him.

"Look here," John said, pointing.

On the lowest shelves, tucked in a dim corner behind a rolling ladder, were rows of books that Alan had never seen before. Mostly when he was on the island, he'd been outside with Fermat and TinTin, or swimming and exploring the island with his brothers. He'd never been here when he'd had long periods of time to kill.

The books looked old, and smelled faintly musty. Alan dropped to his knees to look closer. There were the usual Hardy Boys - but older versions -, Encylopedia Brown, and Beverly Clearly books, but there were also many that he didn't know.

"These were Dad's and Grandad's books," John said. "They may be old, but they're still great stories. Kind of like the book Scott read you last night. That one started out here, but obviously ended up in Scott's bookcase. I'd always kind of wondered what happened to it. Here, start with this one." He pulled out a book from the middle of the second shelf, and handed it to Alan.

"Bill Bolton and the Winged Cartwheels", Alan read. "By Lt. Noel Sainsbury."

"It's fun. It's about a pilot in the 1930s. Of course, since it was written in the 1930s, it was considered very modern at the time," John laughed. "Come help yourself whenever you need something to read, or ask me. I'll get the guys to clean out their books cases as well. I know we've all got tons of stuff you'd like."

Alan nodded thoughtfully as he got up. "Okay."

"Now, let's get you back to Virgil before he completely moves around all your hotels," John advised with a grin.

"Yeah," Alan muttered ruefully. "He would."


	17. Chapter 17

**INVISIBLE **

**By Spense**

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Since Virgil was asleep when Alan got back to the infirmary, he took the time to put the hotels and houses that Virgil had rearranged back into place. After that, he looked through the pile of books that Virgil had moved from the foot of the bed to a stack on a rolling table. Grabbing one, he settled down for an afternoon of reading until Virgil woke up again, taking his job of keeping his eye on his brother seriously. At least he wouldn't be bored anymore.

Virgil didn't sleep all that long, and was ready to continue the game when he woke up. The two continued the battle up until dinner time. The game seemed to be a draw, but it was a little hard to tell as hotels and houses tended to move around when one or the others back was turned. Eventually, the game was terminated when Onaha came down to call them both to the meal. Virgil, for one, was glad to escape the infirmary (not to mention the game), even if only for a short time.

For the first time in a very long time, the mood at the meal seemed almost lighthearted. Virgil was teased mercilessly about his loss at Monopoly, whereas he protested that he didn't lose. No, he only cheated, Alan responded quickly.

Arriving late to the table, due to a business call, Scott announced that he and Jeff needed to go to New York as soon as the meal was over. Their presence was required for a critical meeting, and they had to be there in person.

Jeff grimaced at that. It was the story of his life. Thinking quickly, he began issuing orders. "We'll come back tomorrow afternoon, so in the meantime, if a rescue comes up, Kyrano and Brains can run Command and Control. Gordon, you'll be up on Two, and John can fly One. Brains can go if another person is needed. We won't even be gone for 24 hours, so I don't expect any problems."

"What about me?" Virgil spoke up, irritated.

"You're on the injured reserve," Jeff reminded him. "You're in the infirmary until tomorrow morning, and then you're banned from the hangers for another 24 hours. No exceptions!"

Virgil looked perturbed, but a glance at his father's implacable face, and Alan's interested observation in his brother's clear defiance made him back down with a sigh. But he didn't have to do it graciously. "Fine," he muttered, sullenly, sparking a grin from John.

With a quick look at the elder blond Tracy, Scott spoke up before John could incite Virgil's temper by a well-placed comment about maturity, or lack thereof. "So, Alan, can I ask a favor?"

Alan, looking slightly surprised at being addressed, answered, "What?" warily.

"Could you hold off on setting off tomorrow's maze until we get back? I don't want to miss it. You and Gordon are producing bigger and better versions each day. I'm interested in what you'll come up with tomorrow."

"I agree. How about it?" Jeff agreed with a grin.

"Okay," Alan agreed readily.

"And I can help," Virgil commented eagerly, then looked over at Alan, adding swiftly, "If that's alright with Allie."

Knowing that Virgil was as creative as Gordon, just not as likely to turn that towards a brother's disadvantage, Alan rapidly assented.

"Now you definitely have to wait until we get home," Scott laughed.

TB TB TB TB TB

As Alan headed out of the lounge that evening, (after John had reminded that it was time for bed, and that just because Jeff was gone did not mean that the rule was negated) he reflected that he actually hadn't been bored that whole day. He'd enjoyed hanging out with Virgil, and his brother seemed to really enjoy his company as well. At the thought of Virgil, Alan detoured toward the infirmary in order to say good night to that particular brother.

Seeing that Virgil was still awake, and just channel surfing, Alan went in.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked.

"Yeah, I am. Just bored," Virgil answered. Smiling at the child, he added, "And thanks again for hanging out with me today. You're great company, Al."

Alan grinned. "I had fun."

"You heading up to bed?"

Alan's grin vanished, to be replaced by a slightly sulky expression. "Yeah, Johnny remembered bed time."

Virgil laughed out loud. "Yeah, he would." Turning thoughtful, he looked again at his youngest brother. "I'm so glad you're here on the island permanently now, Allie. I've really missed not having you here. I know it would have just killed Grandma to not have you in Kansas with her, but we really, really missed you. It was hard whenever we had to come back here, or you went back to Kansas. We weren't a complete family without you with us."

The comfort at Virgil's words sank deep into Alan's soul. He was hearing this over and over in one manner of another from all of his family, and each time, the sentiment wore away some of the uncertainty and unhappiness. But he wasn't sure what to say. He finally settled for looking away, and saying quietly, "I know. But I miss Grandma."

"I do to. She was always fun, wasn't she? And man, could she put Dad in his place."

Alan grinned at that. She really could.

"And Allie, I'm sorry about missing your birthday. There really isn't any excuse for that. But please don't think that because I forgot it, that means I don't care about you, or don't want you here. That isn't it at all. I just have a really bad memory for dates, and I really screwed up. I'm really sorry. Are we okay?"

Alan swallowed hard, and nodded.

Reaching out and tousling the boy's hair, Virgil grinned when Alan scowled. "You're getting as bad as John about anybody touching his hair," he teased.

Alan relaxed and grinned back. "I'll never be that bad!"

Laughing, Virgil wished him good night, and sent him on his way to his room.

Alan headed upstairs, thinking hard. His brothers were all going out of their way to say they were sorry. And not just a quick apology either, but really meaning it. They probably had been told to apologize, but what they were saying seemed to go beyond that. And what they said made sense, too. He may need to talk to Dr. Evers about that. She'd probably be able to help him sort it out. His dad had said they'd be going back again in a few days. Might be worth seeing what she had to say.

Deep in thought, Alan was astonished to see John in his bedroom when he walked in. His brother was looking through the stack of books that Alan had brought up from the infirmary earlier that evening. Before John could accuse him of stalling, he quickly explained. "I just wanted to see Virgil and say good night!"

To his surprise, John laughed. "I figured. No problem. But I figured that with Scott and Dad gone, I was going to get my turn to read to you. Scott will probably insist it's his prerogative once he's back. So I wanted my chance."

Alan was startled. He'd really enjoyed that the night before, especially after the worry with Virgil. It had been really comforting to sit next to his big brother, and listen to the bass voice bringing the story expressively to life. He'd felt safe. And having John read to him tonight sounded really good. Technically, he knew Virgil was okay, and he knew that Dad and Scott were just going to New York, but after Grandma dying so suddenly, it was nice not to be alone. But still, he didn't want any of them thinking he was a little kid. That point needed to be clear. "You don't have to," he said, "Like I told Scott, I've been reading by myself for a long time now. I'm not a little kid," he pointed out firmly.

John leaned back against the bookcase. "Oh, I know. But I like to read aloud, and none of the guys ever have time to just sit still anymore. And Gordon's taste in books is kind of suspect."

Alan was a little suspicious about this line of reasoning, but thinking about it, he really couldn't find any flaws. So he nodded agreement. "Okay." Besides, he'd really liked it the night before.

"Go change, and I'll wait. I thought maybe we'd start with 'The Hobbit'. And you can't finish this one on your own. You've got enough other stuff to read now. We'll read this one all the way through together," John finished firmly.

Alan nodded ready agreement, and hurried to comply.

In a very short time, for the second time in two nights, Alan was curled up in bed, next to an older brother, listening to a great story come to life. But to his surprise, not long after John had started, Gordon appeared quietly in the doorway, pillow in hand, and without interrupting the story, settled himself across the foot of the bed. He also commandeered the spare blanket at the foot of Alan's bed, and made himself comfortable, clearly wanting to listen as well.

And even as another thunderstorm rolled through outside, the atmosphere inside the room was warm, safe, and companionable, as John spun the tail of Bilbo Baggins and his adventures to his listening brothers.


	18. Chapter 18

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

_Note: After all my tweaking, final chapter count is 24. You've been warned._

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

It was very nearly 24 hours later that Jeff and Scott arrived back on the island. Tired, but successful, they were both ready for a break. After unloading the plane, and a few detours, they finally made it to the lounge, and stopped dead in the doorway, stunned. Every wall in the room was covered with a humongous maze. It went nearly from floor to ceiling, and in some places, actually snaked around the ceiling.

"Good grief," Scott finally said, staring around as he stood in shock next to his open mouthed father.

Onaha looked up from the kitchen, with a smile, and Kyrano turned from his seat at the kitchen bar next to Brains, grinning.

"We really wanted to be here to see your faces," Kyrano mentioned.

Brains laughed. "I-It was w-worth it!"

"They've been at it all day," Onaha commented with a grin. "They finished just a few hours ago."

"They?" Scott asked.

"All four of your brothers. Alan and Gordon of course, and Virgil and even John, joined in," she elaborated.

"Wow," was all Scott could say. He tried to track it from beginning to end, but kept getting lost.

"They used every single piece from the sets, and then some. Virgil kept making trips down to the workshop for improvised parts," Onaha said, laughing.

Looking closer, Jeff could see dominoes, dice, playing cards, screws, small pieces of wood, string, cups, and any manner of foreign objects interspersed within the actual maze parts. "Unbelievable," he muttered. Then, looking up, he asked, "How is Virgil?"

"F-Fine," Brains answered. "Not e-even much of a-a headache."

"Good," Jeff said, glad to hear it, and looked back at the maze, still floored by the scope of the thing.

"They haven't run it yet, have they?" Scott demanded.

"No," Onaha replied. "They were all very clear that they were to wait to run it until the two of you returned."

Jeff was just shaking his head. The amount of work and planning this had to have taken was monumental. Clearly, Scott was of the same mind set.

"You know, Dad, this might be a good team-building exercise at our next Tracy Enterprises management retreat," was Scott's comment. "Just on a smaller scale!"

Jeff just nodded, still in a state of complete amazement.

"You are not far wrong, Mr. Scott," Kyrano commented in his quiet voice. "You would have been proud of your sons, Mr. Tracy. The way they all worked together to plan and create this was quite amazing. And they were nearly as efficient as you are," he added with a chuckle.

Onaha added a comment as well. "Kyrano is right. This was a good gift that you gave to give Alan. It's drawn him closer to his brothers, and also given him an outlet for his creativity. This was a good thing, Mr. Tracy."

Jeff just shook his head in amazement, once again, then turned to look at the couple who were as much family to him as his sons. "Who knew?" He muttered, then said aloud, "Where are they now?"

Laughing, Onaha said, "Taking a break. They started this early this morning, took a break for meals, and finished about an hour and a half ago. I believe John has gone up to the office to write, Virgil down to the workshop, and Gordon and Alan headed for the beach. I did see them heading back up the hill when they saw your plane. They should be here any moment. And now that you are home, we will eat shortly."

"I-I think that n-none of them wanted to be p-present when you first saw it," Brains chuckled.

Jeff and Scott looked at each other and grinned. "You may want to hold off on that for a moment, Onaha," Scott commented. He was interrupted by Alan's voice calling down the stairs.

"Dad?" Alan sounded puzzled.

The two elder Tracy's shared a knowing smile. "Right on time," Scott commented.

Jeff turned to Brains, and the Beleghant couple. "You may want to come see this," he said, grinning, as he and Scott turned for the stairs. "I'm coming, Alan!"

Alan's call drew the others as well, and the whole group converged on Alan's bedroom at the same time. Crowding in the doorway, Jeff and Scott both grinned like idiots as everybody else began smiling as well. On Alan's bed, and spilling off onto the floor was a huge stack of bags and boxes from the FAO Schwartz toy store in New York, as well as a well know hobby shop.

Alan was just looking at the huge haul with a puzzled expression. "What's all this?" He looked at his father and oldest brother. Then he looked slightly suspicious. "This isn't for my birthday, is it?" He didn't look happy with the idea.

"No, Allie. We still need to do something for your birthday. Something special," Jeff assured Alan as he came quickly into the room to reassure his son. Sitting down on the bed, he drew Alan down next to him, putting an arm over his shoulder. "No, but both Scott and I realized that you really didn't have anything on the island to do. You'd outgrown everything you had left here. The maze was just a start. But until we could get your things from storage, you needed something to play with. Something to read!"

"Johnny took care of the books last night," Alan said, beginning to understand, and pleased that his father really had noticed.

"Good job, John," Jeff said, looking up at his other blond son and exchanging smiles. Looking back at Alan, he continued. "I still feel badly that it took me so long to realize that you were just, plain, bored. Basically, that you had absolutely nothing to do. I'm so sorry that I didn't notice sooner. Anyway, I had already planned to take a trip to the toy story and the hobby shop next time I was in New York. Apparently, Scott had made the same observation, and already had the same idea." The two exchanged grins.

"We just got a little carried away once we got there," Scott said with an unapologetic shrug.

"I'll say," Virgil commented, looking around in amazement at the large stack of books, games, puzzles, model kits, lego sets, art supplies, radio controlled race cars and planes, action figures, a scale train set, and the like.

"Yes, well . . . " Jeff murmured.

"Boy and their toys," Onaha observed. She looked at Jeff with a smile. "I think you and Scott had as much fun shopping as Alan will have playing with all this."

"There is that," Jeff said with a laugh, exchanging knowing grins with Scott, as he pulled Alan in closer for a hug. Alan was still looking around in total amazement. "Hopefully we did well on our choices."

"I think it looks great!" Alan said, still stunned. He wasn't sure what to open up first.

"Gordon, there some things for you as well, in your room," Jeff said, smiling at his second youngest son. At 17, Gordon was still a cross between a kid and an adult. And as much maturity and discipline as he showed in his swim training, he still needed to be reminded to take a break and have some fun once and awhile.

Gordon looked slightly surprised, and then grinned. "Thanks, Dad!"

"Okay, dinner will get cold," Onaha announced and began herding the others out of the room. "Alan can play with all this later. And I'm sure he'll be having the big kids helping him as well, all five of them," she added wryly. Then looking at her husband and Brains, she laughed again, and amended her total. "Seven, that is."

In the chaos of the mass exit, moving down the stairs (while detouring to Gordon's room to check out the packages within), with Onaha acting as wrangler trying to move a reluctant herd that was determined to stray, Jeff stayed behind. He held Alan back, and hugged him tighter.

Looking down at his youngest son, he said seriously, "I'm truly sorry, Allie. I really blew it. I knew you were unhappy, and I never realized that part of it was just plain boredom. You have such as active mind, as well as a need to be outside and physically active. It's my job to make sure you have something to occupy yourself. And with TinTin and Fermat gone, well, I really blew it. I'm so sorry." Sighing, he continued. "My only excuse is that I'd just lost my mother, and like you, I've been missing her. And I threw myself into work so that I wouldn't have to think about it. But that still doesn't excuse my actions. You are my first priority, and I needed to remember that. I'm very sorry for not doing more to help you adjust."

Alan looked up at his father, still stunned beyond belief. The toys and stuff were fantastic, but the fact that his father (and Scott) had taken the time out of a busy work trip to New York, to go shopping specifically for him, was amazing. And that they hadn't just ordered stuff, but gone and picked each thing out, made it even more meaningful. And he hadn't thought about the fact that Grandma was Jeff's mom as well. It made a lot more sense to think of it that way. So his Dad was having a hard time, too. And maybe as much as he was. That was something more to think about later.

"It's okay," Alan said, heartfelt. "And . . . thanks, Dad," Alan finished quietly, and hugged his father hard, trying to convey what he couldn't find words to say.

Looking down into his son's face, and seeing the shining eyes, Jeff felt like maybe he was finally beginning to get it right.

"You're welcome, Allie." Kissing the top of his head lightly, he said softly, "I love you."

"Love you, too," Alan whispered.

Then Onaha was calling them, and they were once again pulled back into the laughing group of their family, both blood and adopted.

TB TB TB TB TB

Of course, the first order of business before sitting down to the evening meal was the maze. Looking at it again, Jeff found himself shaking his head once again in disbelief. It was massive.

"Alan!" Scott called, and tossed him the small rubber ball. "You do the honors."

Alan grinned, and waiting until everybody was watching, dropped the ball onto a track next to the entry way door. The ball began to roll, slowly at first, then gaining speed, spinning around curves, up an improvised cog ramp like that on a roller coaster, then down a huge drop. Then, at the bottom, it tripped a small lever. From there a trap door opened, and the ball dropped six inches to halt as it struck another ball which was attached to a string, and sending it sailing across the corner of the room, causing those nearby to duck, where it unerringly hit an upright domino on the mantle of the fire place, sending it into the next domino, and beginning the whole line falling.

The line of movement continued, and as each section finished, it set off another, then another, then another, as the whole chain continued unceasingly around the room. The movement was followed by the group of people who watched, entranced, as each section followed in turn. There was a lot of laughter, and comments. 'That section was Gordon's – you can see it has no organization' or 'that one was Virgil. It took him an hour to get six inches done'.

As they followed the track of the maze back and forth, up and down, and from one side of the room to another, it struck Jeff that this was healing in motion. With the drop of a small rubber ball onto a track, healing was taking place.

It took nearly 6 full minutes for the whole thing to run its course. And when it finished, the whole family sat down to their evening meal in a jovial mood. Laughter and joking abounded. None more so than when Jeff laid down his ground rules.

"Okay, since it's very clear that my adult sons are leading my youngest astray," Jeff said, raising his voice to be heard over the hoots of derision, "I need to instigate some ground rules on the mazes so they don't end up overtaking the house!"

"Don't listen to him, Allie," Gordon stage-whispered to his little brother, putting his hands over his little brother's ears. "Listen to me. I'll never steer you wrong!"

"Remember who manages your trust fund!" Jeff mock-growled to his water loving son.

"Well, on second thought, Allie, listen to him, but come talk to me first before you do anything!" Gordon grinned at his Dad through the laughter.

"Okay. Rule number one. No liquid is to be anywhere in or on the maze. Nothing should shoot, drop, or otherwise propel anything such as, but not limited to, glue, paint, dye, juice, or even water! Got it. . . Gordon?" Jeff looked sternly at his fourth son, the twinkle in his eye belying the countenance of his face.

Laughter erupted again as Gordon's face fell. It was very clear that something along these lines had been in the planning stages.

"Gordon?" Jeff repeated, now grinning outright.

"Got it," Gordon griped. "Geez, you're taking all the fun out of it!"

"Rule number two," Jeff continued, looking at the group in general. "Nothing is to be nailed, screwed, or in any other way fastened to the walls, ceiling or floors. You must use only the existing maze parts, or anything else that is freestanding. No holes, glue marks, or anything else that would otherwise mar the walls. Right . . . Virgil? Unless you'd like to repaint the whole lounge. With a toothbrush."

Attention turned towards the startled artist, who then had the grace to look chagrined, causing another burst of laughter from those assembled.

"Caught in the act," snickered Scott.

"Or at least the planning stages," agreed John.

"And finally, rule number three. The maze may not extend beyond the lounge. No going out windows, into the kitchen, outdoors, up the chimney, or the like. Got it?" Jeff looked over at all of his sons, who groaned, but agreed.

"And I reserve the right to add more rules as needed!" Jeff finished.

Groans and catcalls followed this statement, but were cheerfully acknowledged. The meal finished up with a discussion as to whether they should reset the maze and run it again, or tear it down in order to build a new one the next day. Tearing it down won out, and as they all helped in the task, turned out to be nearly as much fun as the building had been.

They were finishing up when Jeff reminded Alan that it was nearly his bed time. Glumly, Alan nodded, and began to head for the stairs, when Scott called after him. "I'll be up in a few minutes, Allie. We have a book to finish."

Before Alan could answer, John stepped in. "Nope, you lost your chance. Allie finished it on his own yesterday. We started a new one last night, right Alan?"

"No way. Encroaching on my territory, Johnny?" Scott said with a mock glare, eyes twinkling.

Alan turned to watch, amazed, as his two brothers squared off against each other as to who was going to read to him.

"I vote for Johnny," Gordon chimed in. "I want to hear more of 'The Hobbit'."

When everybody turned to look at Virgil for his input, he just raised his hands in surrender. "I have no dog in this fight. But I may come up and listen. Listening to either of you read aloud is better than radio theater."

Jeff laughed and made a 'T' sign with his hands. "Time out! I'm stepping in with a command override. John reads until this current book is finished. Scott picks the next one, and reads that one. Then John. And so on. If one of you is gone, the other can fill in. And no reading longer than half an hour. And the session ends if Alan falls asleep before that. Got it?"

Again, amid a chorus of groans and laughter, the motion was passed, and Alan headed up the stairs to his room, shaking his head. There was no doubt about it. His family was truly crazy.

But later, he had to admit, it was fun listening to John read, with his three other brothers, all draped in various stages of relaxed sprawl around his room, listening quietly as well.


	19. Chapter 19

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

The next morning, Scott was the last into the breakfast room. All motion stopped, as they took in the eldest Tracy son, dressed in swim trunks and a tee shirt, carrying two sets of diving gear. Dropping all of the gear next to the entry way wall, he made his way cheerfully to the table.

"Sorry I'm late! It took me a while to find the kid sized gear."

"And clearly you aren't planning on working this morning, are you Scooter?" John pointed out with a grin.

"Nope," Scott smiled back. "I'm taking the morning off. I worked for 24 hours straight yesterday, if you add in flying time, and I'm going to enjoy myself this morning."

"Really," Jeff commented drolly.

"Yep. I'm going to explore the cave system on the south end of the island. I've wanted to look in there ever since Gordo told us about it. And I'm taking Alan with me." He looked at his youngest brother, who looked surprised, then thrilled.

"Well, I suppose you can have the morning," Jeff said in mock-reluctance, breaking into a grin. "Explore for me, will you? I've been wanting to go there as well."

"Will do," Scott smiled, digging into his breakfast.

Alan was looking crestfallen.

"What's the matter, Sprout?" Virgil asked, as he noted the expression.

Now that all eyes were on him, Alan couldn't hide. He really hated to be so different than the others sometimes. Finally, he looked at his plate and muttered, "I don't know how to scuba dive."

There was a moment of silence, then John said, "I thought you learned last time you were here."

Alan looked up. "Nope. I had a cold and Grandma wouldn't let me. We didn't have time after that."

"Didn't you learn during the school year? I thought you were going to," Gordon asked, puzzled.

Now Alan just looked exasperated. "And how much deep water do you think there is in Kansas, stupid?"

Virgil snorted in amusement, as Jeff broke in. "No name calling, Alan," he admonished, then continued, now smiling, "But now seems like a great time to learn."

"Yep!" Scott agreed cheerfully. "How about we start lessons in the deep pool this morning, then go snorkeling. I know you're comfortable with that."

Alan nodded enthusiastic agreement. "But you want to explore the caves," he said, feeling slightly martyred for bringing it up. He really did want to learn to dive, but he didn't to be a burden to Scott, either.

Scott smiled reassuringly at him. "No problem. As soon as you're ready, we'll explore the caves together. How's that?"

Alan grinned. "Great!" He said, thrilled.

Breakfast finished quickly, and Alan was dashing for the stairs to change to swimwear, and the rest were disbursing to their regularly activities.

TB TB TB TB TB

Jeff got a lot done that morning. Alan seemed to finally be beginning to settle in, and was slowly acting more and more like himself. He was beginning to eat more, although not nearly as much as Jeff would like. But as Jeff continued to discuss the situation with Dr. Evers online, she encouraged him to have patience. That was never one of Jeff's strong suits, but her advice was definitely helping.

Glancing out the window, he could see Scott and Alan in the deep pool, working with the dive equipment, and both seemed to be enjoying themselves. Gordon was swimming laps in the lower pool, and Jeff knew his other sons were engaged in their various pursuits. All was beginning to look right with his world.

Later, when Onaha called him for lunch, he noticed that both pools were empty and still. Arriving for the meal, he noted Scott and Alan's absence, and was told they'd packed a picnic and had headed out to snorkel.

Not long after the midday meal, Jeff was back into work up in his office. He was going over some issues on the new engineering project Virgil was working on for Tracy Enterprises, when he saw his oldest and youngest sons coming up the path from the beach. The both looked relaxed and happy. Making a mental note to get Scott to take a break more often, he turned back to business.

The rest of the afternoon was productive, and much later, Jeff and Virgil were bent over the plans that Jeff had been looking at earlier, fully involved on some a specific problem, when there was a light, hesitant tap at the door. Jeff didn't even look up. "Come in," he said shortly.

"Dad?" Alan's soft voice was nervous and tentative. "Sorry for bothering you, but . . . I don't feel so good."

It was Virgil's gasp that made Jeff snap his gaze up and really focus on his younger son. Then he was moving before he could even frame an answer. Alan had the worst sunburn that Jeff thought he'd ever seen. His skin was a dark red, with blisters scattered here and there.

"I'm going, Dad. I'll meet you there," Virgil said, heading out of the room, with a quick, sympathetic look at his baby brother.

Jeff met Virgil's eye quickly, and nodded, as he dropped to one knee next to Alan. As he knelt beside his son, he could see that Alan's legs, arms, hands, and face were dark, dark red. He wanted to touch his son, but it was clear that there was no place he could. "Oh, Allie," Jeff murmured in sympathy as he settled for carefully lifting Alan's tee shirt, exposing his son's burned chest and back. "Scott forgot the sunscreen, didn't he?"

"Uh-huh," Alan nodded, and then winced as the air hit his now exposed skin.

"Okay, come on, we'll get you feeling better," Jeff soothed, gently dropping the hem of the shirt back into place.

He knew that sunburn was not something to mess around with, especially not in the tropics. Alan had been living in Kansas, and was not desensitized to the sun in this area, as his other sons were. Looking closer at his son, it was clear that his temperature was up, he was dehydrated, and clearly felt miserable.

"Do you want to walk, or do you want me to carry you?" He asked quietly, trying to be as comforting as possible.

It was obvious from Alan's face that he'd like to be carried, which was a clear indicator at just how badly he was feeling, but the thought of anybody touching him was clearly not pleasant either. Finally, he just murmured, "walk", and finished with a big yawn.

Feverish for sure, Jeff thought, as he looked at his son's overly bright eyes, and the telling yawn. "Okay, let's go to the infirmary. Virgil's getting things ready."

Alan just nodded. He'd never, ever, been sunburned this badly before. Now he knew why everybody always bugged him about sunscreen. He'd completely forgotten about it, and he guessed Scott had too.

They made their way silently down to the infirmary. Alan was clearly very shaky, and it was just killing Jeff to not be able to help his son. But, again, it was just as obvious that touching Alan anywhere on his burned skin would just make matters worse. When they reached the infirmary, it was apparent that Virgil had indeed been busy.

The medic met them at the door. "Allie, are you nauseous at all?" When Alan gave a small nod, Virgil continued, as he carefully took his little brother's temperature with an ear thermometer. "Have you thrown up?"

At Alan's affirmative nod, Virgil just sighed, and looked at the thermometer, and frowned slightly. "Okay. Dad, get Allie over to the shower. I've hooked up the saline mist. Then bring him over here," he said, nodding towards a bed. "I've set it up with an air mattress and sterile sheets so as not to damage his skin any more than possible."

Jeff nodded as he glanced at the thermometer that Virgil had surreptitiously shown him. It was way too high. Between that and the nausea, he knew that they were getting into dangerous territory. With calm he wasn't feeling, he steered Alan towards the shower room, thankful for the invention Brains had come up with when they'd first moved to the island. Sunburn had been a big issue, until they had finally acclimated (and remembered to use sunscreen) and he'd rigged a salinization unit to the shower, allowing for a fine saline mist. It had become a godsend when dealing with burns of all kinds over the years.

Alan was feeling a little better by the time they emerged. The cool saline mist hadn't hurt the way he'd expected water would, and actually had felt pretty good.

Virgil looked up as Jeff guided his youngest son, yawning and heavy eyed, towards the bed. Alan was wearing nothing but underpants, and the lines from his swim trunks just emphasized the severity of the sunburn. Virgil flinched in inward sympathy as he grabbed the ear thermometer once more. Scott was going to be beating himself up for this. They'd been living here so long, they rarely thought about how penetrating the sun was. It was one more thing that Grandma had always taken care of for them; making sure Alan was well protected from the intense rays when he was here. And that made Virgil feel just like more of a louse. He should have remembered as well. But he knew his guilt was nothing like that which Scott would be feeling, that was for sure.

Virgil indicated for Alan to sit on the edge of the bed, and set a stool for his feet, so he wouldn't have to touch anything with his burned legs. Then quickly taking Alan's temperature again, and looking at the result (better, but not where he wanted it by any means) he said, "Okay, Dad, you start with the lotion. Start on his legs. I'll get the IV going."

"No needles," Alan objected, clearly unhappy at the thought.

"Sorry, Sprout," Virgil said firmly. "Trust me, you'll feel better, and I'll make sure it doesn't even hurt."

Jeff managed to get Alan's attention by starting the lotion, which was something else that Brains had put together when they'd first moved to the island, and they were all getting sunburned pretty regularly, although not nearly this badly. It was a mix of a moisturizer specifically designed for burns and the resultant blisters, as well as a topical analgesic, so it actually was able to slightly deaden the pain. Alan winced at the first cool touch, and then relaxed as it soothed the tight, hot skin. And Virgil had the IV in and set up in Alan's left hand before he'd even registered that it had happened.

Quickly, Virgil started a saline drip to ward off the dehydration that had set in, then added an anti-inflammatory cocktail. This would combat the fever, and get Alan's temperature to drop, as well as containing a pain reliever and an anti-biotic. Severe sunburn was essentially just a regular burn, so Alan basically had first degree burns all over his body, and second degree blisters in some places. No wonder he was miserable.

Soon, Virgil and Jeff had Alan up on the bed, legs stretched out on the sterile sheet. Jeff sat on the side of the bed, leaning Alan forward so his head rested on another sterile sheet laid over his shoulder, a cool, dry compress on the back of his neck, and was smoothing lotion onto his back, murmuring to him.

Alan felt himself beginning to drop off to sleep, relaxing as the pain receded, calming in the presence of his father, his soothing voice, and the steady beat of his heart. As the big, gentle hands smoothed cooling comfort over his back, Alan felt safe and cared for, and drifted off to sleep.

Finally, Jeff was able to lay Alan down on the bed, and cover him with another sterile sheet, to ward off the chills of the fever. Virgil took Alan's temperature once more, and this time, as he pulled the thermometer from his little brother's ear, he smiled as he took in the reading.

"It's really dropping now. Down to 101.1."

"Good. How long should he sleep?" Jeff asked, brushing Alan's hair back carefully.

"A while. I'll get the next dose of medication set up, and ready to go. He's going to need it when it's time."

"Okay," Jeff nodded. "I want to be back here before he wakes up. But right now, I need to find Scott. He's going to be pretty upset when he finds out about this, and it will be better that he hears it from me."

Virgil winced, adjusting Alan's IV. "I'll say. Uber-older brother is going to see this as a big time fail."

Jeff grimaced as well. "Yes, he is. And I'd be angry with him if I didn't think he'll be madder at himself than I could ever be. No, this is a one-off." Changing the subject back to Alan, he asked, "What about the blisters? Are you going to need to bandage them? "

"No, I don't think so. Not if we're careful. They should be okay. I'll keep an eye on them though," Virgil said. Then, looking at his father, he observed seriously, "At least Allie came to us, this time."

Jeff nodded in heartfelt relief, as they both thought about finding Alan in the infirmary looking for medication that second night he'd been back on the island. "Yes. Yes he did."

"Do you think that means things are getting better?" Virgil asked, clearly in need of reassurance.

"Yes, I believe that it does," Jeff said with a smile.

TB TB TB TB TB

Scott burst through the door of the infirmary, with Jeff close on his heels trying to reassure his older son. It clearly wasn't working, as Scott was focused only on the sleeping Alan. "Oh, man," he breathed, horrified, as he took in Alan's deeply sunburned face.

"Yeah, and shut up, will you? I want him to sleep," Virgil said, getting up and making shushing motions.

It was too late. Alan was stirring, and wincing as he moved. "Gra'ma?" He slurred, clearly not really awake.

Jeff moved past a still mortified Scott. "No, Allie, its Dad," he said softly, carefully smoothing Alan's hair back.

"Daddy?" Alan muttered, trying to reach out his hand.

"Right here, Buddy," his father answered, taking Alan's hand very, very gently. He thought his heart would sing as Alan had reached for him. They were indeed finally making progress. Too bad it had to be something like this to show it so clearly.

Alan gave a deep sigh, and reassured, fell back into a deeper sleep.

Scott was still standing, looking dismayed at his little brother. "I can't believe I forgot," he murmured, much more quietly this time.

"Yeah, well, welcome to the real world, Scooter," Virgil muttered, shoving past him to check the IV line. "We're not always perfect."

"Virgil's right," Jeff said, straightening up from his now sleeping youngest son. "Mistakes happen."

Scott looked surprised, and said to his father, "I thought you'd be ready to kill me!"

Jeff shrugged. "Well, I'm certainly not happy about this, that's for sure, and it was careless. But I'm pretty sure that you are going to be harder on yourself than I could ever be. And I'll guarantee you that won't make this mistake again. Alan will be better about remembering sunscreen as well from now on, if you don't remember it for him. He'll be okay, Scott. Just miserable for a day or two."

"This time," Virgil muttered, not quite ready to let his older brother off the hook yet. However he did shut up at a glare from his father.

Jeff steered Scott towards the door. "Now go do something constructive, and let Alan sleep."

"What are you going to do?" Scott asked, heading out of the room reluctantly.

"Work, of course," Jeff smiled, as both Scott and Virgil did a double take at him. "From here. So how about bringing down my laptop and tablet for me, hum?" And grinned, as both looked at him in exasperation.


	20. Chapter 20

**INVISIBLE**

**By Spense**

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

When Alan finally woke up completely, it was the next morning, the IV was gone, and he was still in the infirmary. Wincing as his skin felt tender as he shifted, he remembered the sunburn.

"Good morning."

Alan turned carefully to see his father smiling at him. Jeff set his book aside and stood up, coming over to lean on the edge of the bed, and gently check his son's forehead for fever. Alan had thought he'd dreamed that his father was in the room. But apparently it wasn't a dream, as Jeff was here, and had obviously been with him for a while from the looks of things. The multiple coffee cups, a rumpled blanket, books and a laptop told their own tale.

"How are you feeling? Better?" Jeff asked.

Alan blinked, and yawned, wincing slightly as the motion pulled on his burned face. "Yeah, I guess."

"Good. That's quite a burn you've got there. Scott's beating himself up for forgetting the sunscreen," Jeff said, as he crossed his arms and smiled down at his youngest son.

"How long have I been here?" Alan asked, somewhat puzzled as to why a sunburn had put him in the infirmary.

"Since yesterday afternoon," Jeff answered. "And you can get up if you'd like, but I really want you to stay quiet for the next couple of days. Maybe read, or explore your new toys. But no going outside until I tell you that it's okay."

Alan nodded. He did feel tired, but not enough to stay in bed.

Virgil appeared in the doorway right about then, grinning as he saw Alan awake. "Hey, you're up!"

At Alan's nod, and small smile, Virgil grabbed a bottle of lotion from the nearby countertop and tossed it to his little brother. "Here. Use this every couple of hours, and anytime something hurts. If the blisters break, come see me at once. We need to make sure they don't get infected. Also, if you start to get nauseous again, come get me or Dad."

Alan caught the bottle and nodded again.

Jeff smiled at Alan again, and then said, "I'll go get you some breakfast. Meet me upstairs?"

"Okay," Alan said in agreement. "But I'm not really all that hungry."

"Humor me," Jeff said with a grin, "How about a scrambled egg and some orange juice?"

To Alan's surprise, that actually sounded pretty good. "Yeah, okay."

"Great. See you in a few minutes upstairs," and with a tousle of Alan's hair, he was gone.

"Well, start putting it on," Virgil demanded as the door shut behind their father.

Gingerly, Alan began to smooth the lotion on his arms, relaxing as it actually felt pretty good and didn't sting.

"Make sure you put that on anytime you think about it, and come see me if you need more," Virgil said. "Trust me, it will help with the sensitivity, and you won't peel as much."

Alan nodded, following Virgil's directions, and looked around the room. "Did Dad really stay here all night?"

Virgil snorted. "What do you think? Of course he stayed. And he didn't sleep until your fever broke and we took you off all the meds. He only crashed when it was clear you were sleeping normally."

Alan was bewildered. "But it was just sunburn," he protested.

Virgil shook his head seriously. "Sunburn isn't something to mess around with Allie, not here in the tropics. And especially if you aren't sensitized to how intense the sun is around here. It can be dangerous if you aren't careful. And you had a _really_ bad burn. Scott is beating himself up about it, too. He can't believe that he forgot to get sunscreen on you. Especially since being around the water can make it a lot worse."

Remembering the feeling of safety he had waking up with his Dad present, and how nice he'd been when he'd interrupted him in his office the day before, as well as all the toys and stuff, Alan was beginning to think that maybe Dr. Evers was right about how his family felt about him.

"You can go up to your room after breakfast, if you want, and keep exploring that haul of stuff Dad and Scott got you," Virgil said grinning. "Just stay inside, stay quiet, keep using that lotion, and drink a lot of water and juice. And if you start feeling bad again, come get me or Dad. Okay?"

"'Kay," Alan said, finishing working the lotion into his skin.

Virgil tossed him a pair of shorts, headed for the door, and looked back at him. "Scott's in his office upstairs and you may want to pop in and let him know you're alive, or he just may send out the alarm if he comes down here and doesn't find you. Big brother is in overdrive," he said with a grin, then vanished with a wave.

Alan got carefully out of bed, and inched on the shorts. As long as he was careful, he didn't hurt. And wow, was he ever going to be careful. He had a lot to think about. He was so sure his dad was going to be mad at him for interrupting him yesterday while he was working, but he hadn't. That wasn't what Alan had expected, but was exactly what Dr. Evers had told him Jeff would do if he needed him. If she was right about that, maybe she was right about all of them actually wanting him. Things seemed a lot more like they used too now, like before Grandma had died. Maybe everything really was going to be okay after all.

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan recovered quickly from the sunburn, and in no time, he and Scott resumed diving lessons. Scott was diligent in remembering the sunscreen, to a point where he was almost driving Alan crazy. But all Alan had to do was remember how lousy he'd felt, and he would capitulate quickly.

Jeff was pleased with the progress they were making in integrating Alan into life on the island, and during one of his conversations with Belinda Evers, she stressed that Alan needed structure as well as stimulation. They'd gotten the stimulation figured out. Now that Alan wasn't completely bored to death, things had improved exponentially. Jeff still felt terrible that it had taken him so long to notice.

In addition, Dr. Evers felt that Alan's unplanned visit to the Kansas house, and seeing it staged for sale and no longer looking like 'home', had actually been beneficial. Although it had seemed that Alan had felt more adrift immediately following the incident, it had actually freed him up to put down roots in a new place, and was beginning to do so. Again, she cautioned, it would take time, and not to rush things.

Dr. Evers also encouraged Jeff to develop some structure for Alan, such as chores, school work, and the like. Jeff had formalized a chore list for his son, and with an astonishing lack of disagreement, Alan was now helping Onaha regularly with meals, clean up, and laundry. This seemed to actually help Alan feel that his life was more 'normal', and similar to what it had been in Kansas, hence the lack of argument. Jeff was delighted with the result.

Jeff also decided it was time to restart Alan's schooling, and set up mornings as lesson time. The assignments from his school in Kansas were used, as well as a less formal curriculum. Jeff, Scott, John, and Virgil all had a strategy meeting in Jeff's office, and mapped out a plan. They would make sure one of them was in the lounge during 'school time' in the mornings. Not overtly, but just present. Things like the mazes became great physics lessons, visits to the beach became marine biology classes, and the like. Onaha and Kyrano even worked geography in as they discussed TinTin's travels. Basically, they all tried to teach in as non-obvious a manner as possible. Alan's natural curiosity and intelligence did the rest, leading to questions and further discussions.

Often times, conversations over things Alan had read spilled over into lunch time. History, more often than not, ended up as a topic of conversation, with different people adding different tidbits, inciting interesting discussions. History wasn't boring, Alan decided. Teachers just made it that way. Listening to Onaha and Kyrano talk about the history of Myalasia and other countries in the east was absolutely fascinating.

This spilled over to other subjects as well. What had seemed dry and boring in a classroom, became fascinating in open discussion with the adults of the family. An assignment from his Kansas school would lead to a question, such as something regarding the history of the space race, which would then prompt an open discussion based on personal experiences that would absolutely entrance Alan.

Alan grumbled reflectively about school, but not all that much. The way subjects were introduced and worked in around the assignments were far more interesting and accessible than he'd ever found them, as well as challenging, and he found he was actually enjoying himself.

All of this also had the added effect of drawing Alan closer to the family. Overall, Jeff was incredibly pleased with the results. The only major issue still unresolved was that any mention International Rescue or the 'birds, were the only subjects guaranteed to instigate a temper tantrum from Alan. Per Dr. Evers instructions, Jeff just left it alone. So other than IR, Jeff was really feeling that life was finally returning to what passed for normal for his family.


	21. Chapter 21

**INVISIBLE**

**by Spense**

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE**

Alan resisted waking up, but the shaking was relentless. "Wh-a?" He murmured, trying to turn away from the hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Alan, wake up," a familiar voice urged.

"Go 'way," Alan muttered into his pillow, desperately working to ignore the annoying presence beside him.

"Wake up, Allie," cajoled the voice patiently.

Alan reluctantly opened his eyes to the dark room, and twisted back to see his tormenter. Rubbing his eyes as he craned his head back to see who was there. "John?" He said squinting. He turned over all the way to look at his brother sitting on the side of the bed, smiling at him.

"John? Wha'? It's the middle of the nigh'," Alan said with a huge yawn as he sat up.

"Well, technically, it's 1:30 in the morning," John said cheerfully, waiting as Alan slowly came to life.

"Close enough," Alan grumbled.

"Come on, I want to show you something," John said, standing up. He pulled back the covers and handed Alan his robe and slippers.

With the covers back, now Alan was chilled, so he quickly put on proffered garments, yawning again. "What?" Alan asked again, tired, and a little out of sorts.

John just grinned and ignored the petulant tone. He was dressed as Alan was, pajamas, robe and slippers, and putting a hand on his little brother's back John guided him out of the room.

"Is there a rescue? I didn't hear it," Alan said, waking up a little as he started moving.

"Nope. Believe me, you couldn't miss the klaxon. Even Virgil can't sleep through that thing," John answered as he directed Alan down the hall to the back of the house.

"Yeah, I guess," Alan said absently as John moved in front of him to lead. Alan really just wanted to go back to bed, but John was clear that they needed to go somewhere, so he followed obediently. They were in the back elevator, and going down, then walking again in the cool darkness of the labyrinth below the islands surface. Alan was too tired to think straight and not really coherent enough to care, and as long as he was following, John was content to move on in silence. Then they were back in an elevator, and moving up.

He was vaguely aware when the elevator stopped, and John punched a code into the key pad. But he woke up fast when the doors opened. He was in an observatory. You couldn't miss the huge telescope in the middle of the room, or the night sky gleaming above the opened roof. The room was cool and quiet, with the marble floor shining dully from the reflected light of the huge moon overhead. Alan's mouth dropped as he took in the round shape.

"We're in the round house," he exclaimed, now completely awake.

"Yep," John answered with a grin. "That we are," he confirmed, as he moved inside, pushing Alan on in front of him.

Alan wasn't sure which direction to look. This area had always been off limits to him. It was known as John's working area here at home, when he wasn't at his lab. Alan had always sensed that John's lab had something to do with IR, but he didn't quite know how or why. But he certainly hadn't expected this.

"I have an office in the house, just like Dad and Scott, and I have another on the floor below this one. But I wanted to show you where I really work when I'm gone," John explained. "And then you'll understand why I haven't been around as much as the guys."

"This is so cool," Alan breathed, not paying much attention to John's comments as he was too busy taking in his surroundings. There wasn't much else up here except the telescope, and the entrance to a spiral staircase going down on his right. The roof was clearly moveable, as he'd always seen it as a solid covering, but now it was retracted back, opening the room up to the stars.

John put a hand on Alan's back, and ushered him over to the telescope. Alan felt like his head was on a swivel, trying to take it all in. The sky seemed _huge_. A canopy of dark midnight blue velvet, scattered with tiny lights. Some looked close, some very far, and the moon looked so large that he felt he could reach out and touch it. Alan was amazed at the detail. "Wow," he whispered.

"The detail is so clear because we have no light around here except for the house. I can turn off the pool lights if I want to, and sometimes if I need to get a really close look at something, or a picture, I'll do that, but frankly, it's not worth the time since I can get a better shot from . . . Well."

Alan was enthralled. He knew that John was a well-respected astronomer, and like his father, had been with NASA. He was also aware that John had written several text books, and additionally, had written some science fiction that were pretty popular. He also knew that John was an IR Operative as well, and that was why he was always away at his lab, but he wasn't very clear on how it all worked together. And since IR wasn't his favorite organization, he hadn't tried very hard to figure it out. But this? This was amazing. He'd had no idea that this was even here. If this was part of John's lab, he wondered what the rest of it was like. This was like no 'laboratory' he'd ever seen.

"Here," John indicated to the seat at the telescope. "Sit here." With John's help, Alan got situated on the telescopes' seat. It was at an odd angle, but better to see up in the sky, Alan supposed.

"Now, put your eye here, and focus with this." John guided Alan's hands to the right knobs, and suddenly Alan's view became crystal clear, causing him to gasp.

"Yeah, it always gets me like that too," John said, knowingly. "Now, what do you see?"

"Space!" Alan exclaimed, excited. "And . . . something metal? A Satellite?"

"Zoom in or out with this knob here," John directed, "Then use your fine focus knob."

Alan fussed with the knobs a moment, and under John's direction, brought the object into clear vision. "It's bigger than a satellite . . ." Alan murmured, looking carefully. "And it has writing on it. Um . . . something '5'. Oh, there. 'TB 5'." His voice broke off suddenly, and he leaned back away from the eye piece to look at John, a myriad of emotions running across his face.

"Yes," John said quietly, leaning back against the telescope, elbow hitched on it, supporting him. "That is our communications space station. Having Thunderbird Three as a space rescue ship is great, but our main use for the rocket is to go back and forth to our orbiting space station. That's my 'lab', Allie."

Alan was silent. He hadn't had a clue about this. Questions raced around in his head, as well as his usual gut reaction to anything regarding International Rescue. He was completely confused as to how to even start. Luckily for him, John just smiled slightly, as though he understood completely, and tried to explain.

"Thunderbird Five isn't known to the public. The only reason you can see it is because this is a specially made telescope. To most telescopes, it just looks like space junk. This one is equipped with a special filter to read the lettering. I spend most of my time up there monitoring communications. Because it's so high, I have less interference. When we started, somebody had to be up there all the time, so the guys spelled me. Now, Brains has come up with technology that I can use to monitor communications from here on the island. My office at the house works fine, and the equipment on the floor below this one is even better. But there is so much more to see and do in regards to astronomy from the station, that I still spend at least half my time up there."

John continued. "I wanted you to know this, and to see it, so you can understand why I'm away so much. It's an expensive and complicated commute to get up and back, so we don't undertake it lightly. And the communications work is the heart of International Rescue. Unfortunately, it does mean that I don't see family as much as I'd like, and why I didn't get to Kansas all that often."

Alan was conflicted. He really didn't want to hear about IR, but this was John. John was always patient and open about things and always had time for Alan. So he guessed he could listen. Besides, a space station? International Rescue aside, this was really, really cool.

"So I'm gone a lot. And it's by my choice. I'm an astronomer. What better way to see the stars than be up among them? But I miss out on a lot of things. And time can run together, and day and night aren't quite so clear. I tend to miss important dates. Hence, I didn't pay much attention to what day it is, and I missed your birthday. I'm really sorry about that Allie. I just lost track of time, simple as that. You're very important to me, and I feel terrible that I missed the day, and with you right here and me on earth. I can't tell you how sorry I am for that."

John took a deep breath, blew it out, then continued. "And one of those other things I really miss is being able to see you. I hate it when I couldn't get down for your vacations, or to go to Kansas. I always felt like I missed out on so much. Hopefully that will change now that you're here on the island. When I'm dirt side, I can see you more often. Share in the things that you're doing."

Looking seriously at a riveted Alan, John went on. "I just want you to know where I am when I'm not home and I'm at my 'lab', and why I'm not around as much as the other guys. And I want you to be able to come here and see TB5 when you feel like it. It may seem like I'm so far away, but you only need to look through this," John indicated to the telescope. "Let me know when you're looking, and I'll send the antennae up and down to wave at you."

Alan had to giggle at that. John grinned, then continued once more. "Family is important, Alan. And maybe even more important to me since I spend so much time away. I hope, now that you know where I am, we'll be able to keep more in touch. At any time, day or night. The reception is pretty good up there."

Alan laughed, as John had intended him to.

"So why are you still down here?" Alan asked curiously. "I mean, you've been home for a while now."

John gazed up at the deep sky for a moment, then smiled back at Alan. "I told Dad that I wasn't going back up until I knew everything was okay with you. You weren't adjusting well to being on the island, and you were really missing Grandma. So I wasn't going to be anywhere but here until I was sure you were okay."

Alan looked surprised. "And Dad was okay with that?"

"Not only okay, but he agreed wholeheartedly. We're stronger together, Allie, stronger as a family. Grandma's death has been tough for everybody, we all miss her. But really, none of us have dealt with it all that well. But it's been hardest on you. The only good thing to come out of it is having you back here. That's helped the rest of us deal with it. We could always see that one positive."

"Are you going back up soon?" Alan asked in a small voice, trying not to betray his disquiet at the thought. He still tended to get nervous if any of them were away. Grandma had been there, then, poof, she'd been gone. He liked having the rest of his family in sight these days. And John was always such a comforting presence.

John just shook his head firmly, clearly understanding. "Nope, not yet. None of us are quite ready for that yet, least of all me."

That was one of the things that Alan liked most about John. He didn't have to spell everything out when he talked to him. John just always seemed to just know and understand.

"I know you've got questions, and will have a lot more when you can process the fact that I work on a Space Station," John exchanged grins with Alan, "And ask me anytime you want. I'll explain the best I can. But since we have a perfect night sky right now, do you feel like looking at some stars and planets, and a close up of the moon? I guarantee you won't get any better view than from here. Not even NASA can compete, not that they know that!"

"Yeah," Alan breathed, thrilled. John was right. He needed to think about all this, and put it together with what he already knew. He hadn't even guessed at this. A Space Station? He was already fascinated. He wondered if he could ever get to go up on it. He had no idea that space was so . . . well, big. He really wanted to go up there sometime, but for now, a really, good, close up look at the station and at the crowded sky would suffice.

"Okay, turn this knob here. This will move the . . . " And with John guidance, Alan spent a wonderful couple of hours looking up close at the stars, totally entranced, until the sun began to come up over the horizon.


	22. Chapter 22

**INVISIBLE**

**By Spense**

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO**

One early afternoon, Jeff detoured back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee after meeting with Brains down in the hanger level. He was surprised to find the lounge area empty. Usually Onaha was around, and Alan could be found working on his maze, school work, reading, or working on a model. But surprisingly, he was sitting out by the silent pools.

Jeff watched for a moment. This was one of the few times he'd seen Alan doing absolutely nothing in a very long time. Well, since Jeff realized that he had nothing to play with, that is, he thought with an internal wince. He'd been doing much better lately, and had been significantly less volatile. They were both still talking with Dr. Evers regularly, although more online now, and both together and separately. And it was helping them both. And since things were going well, Jeff really didn't want a backward slide.

Heading outside, Jeff sat down on the lounge chair next to the one Alan occupied under the umbrella. Alan didn't look at him, just kept staring at the still pool. Setting his coffee cup on the table, Jeff regarded his son.

"Can I help?" He asked softly.

There was a long moment before Alan answered. Finally, he said quietly, "I just miss her."

Jeff nodded, understanding. "I miss Grandma, too." They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Jeff asked, "Did she always make you sit down and tell her about your day as soon as you got home from school?"

Alan looked at him in surprise. "Uh-huh. Always. She'd ask questions while she knitted. Then I could go back out and play."

Smiling, Jeff nodded again. "And did she like to have you help her in the kitchen when she made dinner? 'Keeping her company', she used to say."

Eyes wide, Alan nodded. "And she always asked me questions about making a recipe smaller, or bigger. Fractions and stuff."

"To check your math skills," Jeff finished, grinning.

"She did all that with you too?" Alan asked, clearly surprised by the idea.

"Yep. And that was what I wanted for you, Alan. Too be able to grow up with somebody who could be that kind of person for you. The other boys had your mother, but she was gone by the time you were old enough to really interact with her. I loved having that kind of attention when I was growing up, and I know Lucy loved providing it to her sons. And everything was changing when you were getting to be that age, and I knew that as a single parent, I wouldn't be able to give you what you needed, but your grandmother could."

Jeff looked away from his son, and out over the pool. "It was the hardest thing I'd ever done, to leave you with my mom. I kept thinking that maybe I'd made the wrong choice, and I'd call Mom to tell her I was going to bring you out to the island. But I'd talk to you, see how happy you were, and I knew I'd done the right thing by having you stay there. It was better that I sacrificed my selfish desire to have you with me all the time, than to deprive you of that kind of everyday attention from a mother, or a grandmother in your case. And, in addition, deprive Mom of you."

Jeff looked back at Alan intently. "She loved you. Really, really loved you, you know. You made her life important. Every day she had somebody to look after, to keep her company, to get up for. After Dad died, I thought maybe I'd lose her too. But then Lucy died, and she was needed again. You boys all needed her. Then, as time went on, you were the only one who really needed her. You helped her love life and living again."

"What about International Rescue?" Alan asked carefully.

Smiling at Alan, understanding what he was really being asked, Jeff answered readily. "International Rescue was important to me, just like Tracy Enterprises was important. But my sons are the most important thing in my life. If it had been the best thing for you to be on the island with me all of the time, this is where you would have been, whether IR was in existence or not. Starting up International Rescue had nothing to do with the situation of leaving you with Mom."

Alan considered this thoughtfully, clearly not quite getting it. But for the first time, he seemed receptive to understanding.

"Alan, how much do you understand about press coverage, reporters, the news, and how it affects our family?" Jeff asked.

Brow furrowing at this apparent change of subject, Alan considered this. "I know that we try to avoid it, because they say things that aren't true. That they aren't very fair to you, and they make stuff up."

"Yes, that's part of it. But the press also covers information too. They report on new discoveries, scientific breakthroughs, and new technology as well. My spacewalk was all over the news because it opened up space to the world. As have been many of the new products and discoveries put out by Tracy Enterprises. That information should be made public, and the papers and news organizations do a good job of that. But with that information comes curiosity. Curiosity about the people who think up the new products. And that can cross the line between what is good, and what isn't."

"So, when they want pictures of all of us, that isn't good?"

"That's right," Jeff said, smiling. "What we have done is important, but our personal lives are not, nor are they anybody else's business."

"Like when Scott got his medal, the papers were printing all kinds of stuff, and Scott didn't want to talk about it," Alan said thoughtfully.

"That's right. International Rescue was one reason we moved to the island. But only one of several reasons. Privacy was another. The ability to live without somebody always pointing a camera at us, or looking over our shoulders. Scott, John and Virgil were beginning to gain attention by what they were accomplishing. Gordon as well, to some extent, with his swimming. They all needed to be protected, have a place that they could go where they could relax, and not always worry about being watched."

Alan nodded, understanding. When they went to New York, they always had to be careful. People were always following them around, asking questions.

Jeff continued. "But I wanted you to be able to have the same kind of childhood your brothers had, and that I myself had. My mother could provide that. But I knew that lack of attention towards you would only last so long. There would come a point when you would be in the spotlight as well, and I wanted you to enjoy the freedom while you could. Security was another problem. The more well known I became, the more my children would be in danger."

Alan nodded knowingly at this. He'd been brought up to know about not going with strangers, don't talk to anybody he didn't personally know, and always having a brother with him when he wasn't at the farm or on the island.

"So I purchased the island for all those reasons. Some place private, and some place safe, as well as a place to start International Rescue. Leaving you with Mom was always temporary. It couldn't last, but it was important that you got as much chance to grow up the same way your brothers did, and unfortunately, that meant you couldn't be with me. The press was always watching me at that point, and then you'd be in the spotlight as well. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But you and Mom were both so happy, and I knew it could all change at any moment."

Sighing, he continued. "Losing Mom was devastating. But you have to remember, we will all die. Hopefully at the end of a long full life, and not before it's our time. And Mom had lived a long time. Her body just finally wore out. But with the sadness, comes the joy as well. I could bring you back home, without hurting Mom. It was the right time."

"And Grandma is in heaven with Mom and Grandad," Alan nodded.

"Yes, and we'll all see them again, when it's our time to go. But in the meantime, we're finally all back together. You've lost the 'real life' you were living, but you have your family again. So you see, there were many reasons for having you stay with Mom. It wasn't an easy decision."

Alan stared out at the pool, thinking about this. So it wasn't that he was just in the way. That was good to know. After a bit, he commented, "Being a grown up is complicated. I don't think I want to grow up yet."

Jeff laughed. "No problem. You can be a kid for a long time, still. And that's why I make the decisions - I'm the grown up. But if you don't understand, just ask me, okay?"

Alan nodded. That made sense.

"So how about we go down to the beach?" Jeff asked.

Alan looked up in surprise. "But don't you have to work?"

Jeff shrugged. "I'll take an afternoon off. Scott took some time off, to teach you to dive. I'd say it's my turn."

Alan grinned, clearly thrilled.

"Go get some sunscreen. You still aren't used to this kind of sun yet," Jeff order, getting up.

Looking startled, Alan said chagrinned, "I still always forget the sunscreen!"

"Yet another reason why I'm the adult, and you're the kid," Jeff laughed.

Alan giggled, and dashed back into the house. Jeff watched him go, feeling better than he had in a long time. They still had a ways to go, trust wise, especially, but hopefully this conversation went a long way to helping improve on that.


	23. Chapter 23

**INVISIBLE**

**By Spense**

**CHAPTER TWENTY THREE**

One evening, a few days after Jeff and Alan's conversation, Alan was quietly working on a model plane in the lounge, following the evening meal. The whole family was gathered, involved in various pastimes, from reading, to playing computer games, to (of course) talking business.

Fitting pieces together carefully, Alan could just overhear some of the conversation. Jeff and Scott were sitting on the couch, talking about security in the main New York building. Apparently they'd been having some issues.

"I really think it's a good idea. Those locks have the reputation for being tamper proof," Scott was commenting.

Jeff nodded. "I agree. I'll send an email tomorrow asking about pricing. I know delivery time is out a ways, because of the high demand."

"I bet. They are simple, and incredibly secure. Wonder who owns it," Scott mused.

"Owns what?" Virgil asked idly, as he abandoned the video game he'd been playing (and losing to) Gordon with a groan of frustration, as his younger brother threw up his hands in victory, shouting "Yes!"

Jeff looked at Virgil, who was taking a chair within range of the conversation. "The AT Lock and Security Company."

"Oh, I've heard of that!" Virgil commented. "Isn't that the one that's just skyrocketing in sales?"

"Yup," Scott nodded, "Especially after it was clear the first lock and security system wasn't a one shot wonder. The second generation is even better, and rumors about the third generation are amazing." He looked at his father. "It might be worth enquiring as to whether the company is for sale."

Jeff nodded agreement. "That's a very good idea. That would be a great company to add to the portfolio."

Alan smiled to himself as he listened to his elders talking about his company. Bending his head down, he made sure he was hiding his smile. Apparently he didn't do very well, because Gordon spoke up.

"What are you smirking about?"

Alan looked up startled, chagrinned at being caught. "Huh?"

"You're smirking," Gordon said with more interest, sitting up straighter. Alan didn't have much of a poker face, and Gordon sensed a secret lurking there. "What do you know about the locks and The Lock Company?

Suddenly Alan found himself the focus of his entire family. He just looked back with wide eyes, a little intimidated.

"Do you something about the AT Lock Company?" Scott asked, intently.

Alan shrank back. Scott could be really intimidating when he got into business mode. He definitely took after Jeff in that way.

"Ease up there, Scooter," John said calmly, moving over to sit next to Alan, and slung an arm casually over his little brother's shoulders, and rubbing his arm reassuringly.

"He knows something," Gordon interjected eagerly, leaning forward. In Gordon's opinion, secrets were meant to be shared.

"Alan, do you know something about that company?" Jeff sat forward, elbows on his knees.

Alan looked at the respectively eager, intent and interested faces around him, and shrank into himself slightly. He wasn't going to be able to get out of this one. Not with Gordon scenting blood. Finally he just slowly nodded.

"What?" Gordon demanded.

"It's okay, Alan," Jeff said encouragingly. "We're just interested because this company offers a very revolutionary product, and little is known about its inventor and owner. We're just curious," he finished, smiling.

Alan relaxed a little, and after a pause, said very quietly, "It's mine."

Jeff blinked, startled.

"What?" Virgil said, puzzled. "What's yours?"

Alan took a deep breath and said a little more firmly, "The AT Lock and Security Company. It's mine. Grandma set it up for me. I made the locks."

"Seriously?" Gordon asked, entranced.

With that, suddenly everybody was crowding around him, pulling up chairs, clearly fascinated.

Settling onto an ottoman in front of his youngest child, and moving the tray table with the now forgotten model out of the way, Jeff asked, "How did you do all this?"

Looking carefully at his father, Alan didn't see any anger, only genuine interest, fascination, and (he was delighted to see), pride. So Alan began to talk.

"I invented the security system first, because Grandma's house was broken into. Nothing was taken, but she was real upset about it. She really liked it, and so did a bunch of the neighbors. So she talked to Mr. McCutcheon, and they got a patent on it. Then I invented the first lock to go with it, and showed Grandma. Grandma said we should call it the A9, because I'm Alan, and I invented in at age 9. The next one was A10, because I did it when I was 10. The next one will be the A11." Alan shrugged slightly, continuing when nobody interrupted him.

"When all the neighbors started buying the security system, Grandma said we should set up a business, and she and Mr. McCutcheon helped me do it, and get the patents. Mr. McCutcheon oversees the whole thing."

"Allie, that is so COOL!" Virgil exclaimed.

"Wow," was all Gordon could say.

Looking at the captivated faces around him, Alan began to relax. They really weren't mad that he'd kept it a secret.

"Why didn't you say anything?" John asked gently from beside him.

He didn't look mad either, just interested, so Alan answered readily. "Grandma and I were going to tell you all as a surprise, but there never was a chance, we were just never all together, mostly. And when we were, we were always talking about something else," he shrugged, clearly oblivious of the impact his statement had on the others.

There was a moment of self-reflective silence as those around him were realizing the context of what he meant. They'd really never paid much attention to what he said, after all, he was just a kid.

"How did you come up with the first design?" Scott asked curiously, carefully changing the subject from what was sure to be a minefield.

Still unaware of the subtext around him, Alan began to explaining with more enthusiasm about coming up with the design, and having the local high school shop teacher make it for him, and how he and Grandma tried to break it, and found that they couldn't.

Jeff listened, amazed. His mother certainly had invested a great deal of time and effort into Alan's project, and clearly had made sure that his ideas and inventions were protected, and were making money for him. He was torn between incredible pride at his youngest son, and the knowledge that Alan most likely would not have thrived so well under his care, and incredibly gratitude towards his mother. But things were different now, and Jeff was aware of just how destructive he'd almost been to his youngest son's life. And Jefferson Tracy never made the same mistake twice. He would make sure that Alan was encouraged to explore his ideas fully, and like his mother had, protect his interests at the same time, until he was old enough to do so himself.

"Where are you working now?" Jeff asked.

Alan met his eyes easily. "In my room. Everything's on my computer right now. I've haven't been able to build anything since I left Kansas."

"We'll get you some workspace, and some good tools. Would you like that?" Jeff asked, smiling.

Alan nodded enthusiastically.

"You know," Virgil commented thoughtfully, "My workshop adjacent to Two's hanger is huge. How about we set something up for Alan there? That way I could help when he needs something machined, and he'd have anything he'd needed right at hand." He grinned at Alan. "Then you wouldn't have to wait on the local shop teacher when you need something, because that would be a little difficult living out here. And I'd have some company!"

"Sounds good to me, if you're willing," Jeff said. "What do you think, Allie? Would you like that, or do you want something more private?"

"No, that's okay. It sounds good," Alan said truthfully. And it did. To have Virgil be able to make a part that he needed right then and there would be terrific.

The conversation devolved into what Alan would need, based on his input, what they had on hand, and how to get what they didn't. Scott asked questions about the business setup, and Virgil kept turning the talk back to the locks by asking about the specific construction of the mechanisms.

"Maybe Tracy Enterprises can get a price break on their order?" John asked, grinning, squeezing Alan's shoulder, clearly very proud.

Gordon gave a bark of laughter. "No way! Milk 'em for all their worth, Allie!"

"Hey!" Scott objected, laughing.

Alan relaxed more and more through the conversation. It was nice to have his family be impressed. But he tensed again as Jeff spoke, seeing the contemplative expression on his father's face. For his part, Jeff had been sitting quietly, gazing thoughtfully at his youngest son, throughout the planning of workspace, tools, and the like, all the while putting certain pieces of information together. Finally, he asked quietly, "Alan? Did you buy the Kansas farm?"

"What?" Gordon turned to look, startled at his father. The other stared at the non sequetor.

This wouldn't be good, Alan thought. He was in trouble now. He just froze.

"It's okay, Alan," Jeff said softly. "I'm not mad. You can tell me. The truth, now."

Finally Alan nodded slowly, eyes locked with Jeff's.

"No way," Virgil declared, absolutely floored.

"How on earth did you do that?" John questioned, wonderingly.

Scott was just shaking his head in stunned amazement.

Still looking directly at his father, and ignoring the rest, Alan said, resigned, "Because it's home. I want to be able to go back home."

"Oh, Allie," Jeff sighed, got up, and shooing John away, sat down in his place, hugging Alan hard.

"I'm so sorry that you had to do that. I should have talked to you and checked whether you wanted to keep it. There really wasn't a reason to sell it, other than I wasn't planning to use it." He looked sadly down at his youngest son, who was alternately making Jeff incredibly proud by his astonishing abilities, and making him feel like the worst father alive. "You shouldn't have had to do that."

"Wow," Gordon breathed, completely dumbfounded.

"You know," John commented, from where he now stood, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, "I really didn't want to see it sold, either. There are lots of good memories tied up in that place."

"Me either," Scott admitted. "I kept thinking that it was our roots, and it would be good to be able to go back for vacations."

Gordon and Virgil nodded clear agreement as well, and chimed in that they hadn't wanted to see it sold, either.

Alan was flabbergasted. He had no idea his brothers still felt that way about the farm. He knew they used too, but they were grown ups now. Maybe not everything had changed as much as he thought.

Jeff stared open-mouthed at his older sons. "Why on earth didn't you say something?"

John snorted, and Scott grinned, commenting, "Well, you're kind of intimidating when you get upset. You get ruthlessly efficient, and a guy could get steamrolled if he got in your way." He shrugged. "You were at your worst when Grandma died."

"And it took you a solid week to come back down to normal," Virgil added, with Gordon nodding his agreement.

"And even then, you were pretty wound for a while," Gordon added.

Now, not only was Jeff staring in complete astonishment, but so was Alan. He had thought he was the only one intimidated by his father the week of the funeral. Apparently that was not the case. His brothers had only seen it more often, and weren't as taken aback as Alan had been, at the stern and in-control man his father had turned into.

After a moment, Jeff just shook his head, and turned back to Alan. "Do you want to reverse the sale? You shouldn't have to use your company's money to pay for the family farm. I promise, we'll keep it."

Alan thought about this for a moment, then shook his head. "I like owning it. I know it will always be there," Alan said guilessly.

Jeff hid a wince. Trust was obviously still a work in progress, as Alan clearly hadn't realized what he'd just said.

"Besides, I'll have a place to live someday. And now, I can go on vacations there," he finished. "Anyway, Mr. McCutcheon says that leasing the land will make it pay for itself, so I won't be out much money either."

Jeff decided to not touch the comment about having a place to live. He really wanted Alan to view the island as home, but plainly, they weren't quite at that stage yet. They were getting there, and Alan seemed pretty content these days, but it would just take some more time. So he just nodded agreement. "Okay, whatever you'd like."

"Cool, Allie! You're a property owner at 11," Gordon laughed. "Wish I could do that!"

"Well, if you'd apply yourself and invent something, maybe you could," Virgil pointed out.

"Nah, I'll just win a gold medal at the Olympics and get lots of endorsements, then I'll just buy Tracy Enterprises," Gordon stated.

"Yeah, right," Scott groused.

And just like that, the conversation devolved into good natured ribbing, and the kind of exchanges that Alan remembered from vacations and holidays. He just watched in wonder.

"Alan," Jeff said quietly, under the din, so just his youngest son could hear. "Do you want Mr. McCutcheon to continue to run things? Or do you want me to hire a manager for you?" He shook his head in wonder. "You've done amazingly well. I'm really impressed. Maybe we should start working with you on the business side of Tracy Enterprises, like Scott."

Alan basked in his father's obvious approval. "I can read financial statements too, and understand them," he said proudly.

Jeff grinned, knowing that Alan's company was likely to be fairly simple in comparison to Tracy Enterprises, but still, it was pretty amazing for a 10, no, make that 11, year old. "We definitely have to get you involved in the business. If you want to, that is."

Grinning, Alan nodded eagerly.

"So, do you want me to help you run your company, or do you want to leave it with Mr. McCutcheon for a while?"

Alan chewed his lip as he considered this thoughtfully, then finally spoke. "I think leave it with Mr. McCutcheon for a while. I still have a lot to learn," he admitted, chagrinned.

Jeff laughed, freely and unhindered, for the first time in a long time, and he hugged his son again. "I think that would be a good idea. How about you and I spend some time each week going over your company's books and decisions. Would that help you learn more?"

"Yeah!" Alan agreed, thrilled at what his father was offering. Then he turned serious. "But it's my company, it's not part of Tracy Enterprises," he said firmly.

Jeff smiled at his son's possessiveness. "No problem. I'll make sure Scott doesn't try to buy it from you," he said, smiling at Alan's answering grin. "And the decisions will all be yours. I'm just be there to help, not take over, okay?"

Alan nodded agreement and relaxed. That was fine. The company was getting big, and he knew he needed help, now that Grandma wasn't there, and with Jeff's offer, and the assurance that he knew it was Alan's, and with Mr. McCutcheon still running it, he was sure he could maintain control.

But Jeff's next words startled Alan once more.

"Do you want Grandma's furniture and things back in your house?"

Surprised, Alan looked at his father, and saw that he was serious. "Can I?"

"Of course. I was just going to bring everything back here. We can have everything moved from storage back to the house and go through it there. You can set it up however you'd like. It would be nice to see the family pieces back in the house where they belong. Whatever you don't want there, we'll just ship back here to the island. You and I can go over and spend a few days sorting and moving things around. You can see some of your friends as well. How would you like that?"

Eyes shining, Alan nodded again, completely speechless. Jeff just smiled back at him, knowing that they were finally back to normal. Or as normal as the Tracy family ever got.

As for Alan, he was thinking very nearly the same thing. Relaxing, he leaned into Jeff, realizing that he felt happy for the first time in a very long time.

Jeff just hugged Alan closer, laughing at his other son's bickering and the escalating roughhousing. As usual Gordon ended up pushing things too far, making a crack at Virgil, and ending up sprinting out the door to avoid retribution.

Things were looking up, and the work they were all putting into healing their relationships was definitely paying off. And Jeff would keep working on being the kind of father his child needed, just as he still did with his other four sons.

TB TB TB TB TB

The days began to take on a new pattern for Alan. Mornings, he spent in the lounge on school work and sometimes his mazes. He was finding the school work a lot more interesting that he had in Kansas, and definitely more challenging. But there was always somebody available to help.

In addition, Jeff had told Gordon that he needed to be working on his school work as well, much to his chagrin. So now the water loving Tracy was land locked for the morning, sitting across from Alan at the big table, working on his assignments. Add to that, Gordon's tendency to try and liven up what he thought of as boring, the mornings went by quickly.

Afternoons usually were filled with work on his locks down in the workshop, with Virgil always happy to help. He also continued helping Onaha, and he'd regularly work with Jeff, looking over the affairs of his company. Sometimes he worked on models, or creating that day's maze, or just goofing around with Gordon. Gordon was turning out to be as fun as Alan remembered. Maybe he was just half grown up. They'd play in the pool, usually drawing one or more of their brothers in to join them.

Virgil was teaching Alan to throw a football, determined that he'd play when he got older, just like his big brother. Scott was lobbying for baseball, his sport in college, but John just smiled knowingly. Alan would be a runner, just like John. The blonde brothers would stick together. Gordon didn't even try. Alan loved swimming, but he wasn't a competitive swimmer. However, all of them made sure that Alan knew this was in the spirit of fun. And they'd be happy with whatever sport he chose to play, or if he chose to do nothing at all.

Sometimes, Alan and Kyrano would go for a hike around the island, looking at the different animals and vegetation around them. Or he and his brothers would go sailing, or diving, exploring caves, or whatever the mood struck.

Evenings were family time, mostly hanging out in the lounge. Alan would work on a model, or a puzzle, and listen to the talk. Most evenings ending with one of his older brother's reading to him. The others often quietly drifted into his bedroom to listen as well.

Plans had been made for Alan and Jeff to go to Kansas and deal with Alan's new house and Grandma's belongings in the early summer. The dates had been set, and Jeff had carved out time so he could truly spend time with his son and for both of them to explore the place that been both of their home for so long. Alan showed true excitement, and Jeff was feeling the same as well.

Recuses occurred, and were dealt with. The first time a night rescue occurred, the sound of the klaxon going off in the middle of the night, the running feet, and the heightened, adrenaline filled atmosphere, scared Alan. But Onaha had come up to his room, gotten him up and had him helping her in the kitchen, once again making sandwiches and coffee for his family when they got back.

As they all sat around, debriefing after the successful rescue, and inhaling the food, Jeff had allowed Alan to stay up and listen. Alan decided that he still didn't like IR much, but the mechanics of a rescue were interesting to listen to, and his brothers and his father were still just family, even though they were in IR uniforms.

Now, Alan was finding it hard to believe that he'd ever been bored. Trust was coming easier, but it was still slow. He'd tended to not believe something that was told to him, until it was proven. Alan wasn't going to take anybody's word on anything for a while. But he and his father had had several more long talks, about all kinds of things. Alan was feeling better about life in general. His first reaction to anything was still to question 'why', and at least now, he got real answers.

Alan also continued to meet with Dr. Evers, and was actually finding that he liked having somebody to talk to. And he was always found something fascinating in her office to play with.

As he began to sleep better and eat more, Alan's attitude and behavior improved as well, bringing him back to his usual sunny self, much to his family's relief. All in all, life was settling down on Tracy Island.


	24. Chapter 24

**INVISIBLE**

**By Spense**

**CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR & EPILOGUE**

One quiet early Spring afternoon, Jeff found Alan at the lounge table putting together a jigsaw puzzle. All his sons liked puzzles, hell, Jeff did as well, and for as long as he could remember, they always had one out on a table somewhere. It was no wonder the maze set was such a hit. The latest creation was already set up and ready to go. As had become habit, they'd set it off when they were all gathered together, just before sitting down to dinner in the evening.

Gordon was just outside, swimming laps, John was around the corner making a snack in the kitchen, rattling glasses and silverware in kind of a background accompaniment, and the others were in and out. It was a peaceful afternoon, no conversations, no stress.

Jeff slid into a chair opposite Alan, and rested his elbows on the table. Alan looked up inquiringly. A truly amazing improvement from the over hostility and wariness with which he'd been greeted for quite a while, Jeff thought gratefully.

"So," he began gently, "I'd like to do something for your birthday."

Alan blinked in surprised, then looked back down at the puzzle. "You don't have to," he mumbled.

"Allie," Jeff said softly, "Please. I'd really like to. I haven't been around for the last several and I've missed out. I really screwed up this one, but I'd like to make it right, even if it is late."

Jeff almost laughed as he heard no sound whatsoever from the kitchen. John must have just frozen. Alan, on the other hand, studied his father carefully for a long, long time, then finally came to a decision.

"What do you want to do?"

Jeff smiled at the carefully worded question. Dr. Evers was right. This was a minefield. But he'd been thinking about this for quite a while. "I'd like you to tell me."

Alan looked surprised. "Really?"

Jeff nodded. "Your call. Within reason, or course. No trips to Mars or Jupiter, for instance."

Alan grinned, and Jeff smiled back. "Do you want to think about it for a while?"

Alan turned that over in his mind for a few moments, while Jeff waited patiently. Then finally, Alan said, "No, I think I know what I want."

Jeff waited quietly, letting Alan unfold his idea in his own time. With this kid, it could be anything. He certainly hoped it was reality based, and something he could actually produce. He'd hate to have to say no. That would set them back a long way, and they had come so far. Or, as Dr. Evers had said, it could just be another test. But that had been happening so much more seldom of late, that it was probably unlikely.

"I want you to take me to the Statue of Liberty," Alan said.

Jeff was startled. "Haven't you already seen that?"

Alan shook his head. "Everybody was always too busy."

Jeff winced internally at that. Story of his life. But still, this was doable. "I think we can do that. Family trip?" Jeff asked, glad to get off so easily.

"No!" Alan exclaimed quickly. "Just you and me. All day. And no work." He looked challengingly at his father.

Jeff gulped. That would be the hard part, certainly. Anytime he was in New York, everybody wanted a piece of him. And avoiding the press would be an issue as well. But he could do this. He had to do this. This was clearly a test, as well as a desire. Alan needed to know that he was more important to his father than Tracy Enterprises. It was a completely understandable request, Jeff knew. And he needed to settle it to Alan's satisfaction once and for all.

"I'll run interference for you at work," John said suddenly, stepping from the kitchen. "I never get into New York, so I'll deflect the press and take care of meetings and appointments at the same time. I need to put some time in at the office anyway. I'll just make sure the media gets a hint that I'm coming. They don't even need to know that you're even there. They'll be so busy trailing me around, they won't even realize that you are in New York."

Alan looked up at John in surprise.

Scott appeared behind John. "Brains and I will run IR. That way you can take as long as you want. You should probably stay overnight. That way you can go to dinner, and maybe catch a show as well. Virgil and Gordon can back up. We'll have TB 5 on backup. It's not like we really need somebody up there all the time anyway. John just likes it." He grinned at John, who grinned back.

John had been down since Ruth's death, and had told his father in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going back up until they had everything with Alan straightened out. Jeff hadn't even argued. Brains had been up regularly, but Scott was right. They really didn't need somebody up there all the time anymore. As technology had improved, John was able to run most of the communications from the island now. But Scott was also correct, John did like it up there. He was an astronomer, after all.

"I think it will work. Operation Cover up, or I suppose, Operation Deflection will be on in New York!" John agreed. "I'll take Dad's phone and give him a family phone. One of the cell phones that have only our phone numbers. That way Dad can't work, even if he wanted to." John winked at Alan as he said this, who openly grinned back.

Jeff laughed. "Sounds great to me. And I'll make a few calls. I think I can get us up into the closed arm of the statue, and on the balcony around the flame."

Alan's eyes got big. "Really? That would be awesome!"

Jeff grinned back. He was so glad he could do something for this son that had been so distant from him. And something so simple. "I'm Jeff Tracy. I can do anything!" He laughed at himself as he spread his arms open wide. The laughter was joined by his sons, who all began to rib him about his ego.

And that's how it all worked out.

TB TB TB TB TB

Finally, late morning, the day following the trip to Ellis Island, Jeff and Alan flew Tracy One home, leaving John to continue placating the press, and eventually fly one of the other jets back to the island.

As they neared home, Alan started to grin. "Hey, Dad?"

"Um?" Jeff said, as he ran the pre landing checks. He'd let Alan do most of the flying, but he still wasn't quite ready to let his 11 year old land the big, quick jet, no matter how competent he was proving to be as a pilot.

"Can we do it?"

Jeff had to think about that for a moment, then grinned. He hadn't thought about it in years. But Scott was manning the tower, and it had been a running joke . . . He couldn't believe that Alan still remembered that that prank from when they first moved onto the island, and his youngest son had been visiting. Scott had watched that dammed movie over and over, until they'd all known it by heart.

Looking at his son, he grinned, then toggled the radio.

"Tower, this is Tracy One, requesting fly by."

There was a momentary startled pause, then he could hear Scott's grin through the radio transmission. "Negative Ghost Rider, that pattern is full!"

And with the song 'Danger Zone' from the movie Top Gun, a perennial family favorite, blaring, Jefferson Tracy buzzed Tracy Island in Tracy One, with his youngest son laughing beside him.

As they circled back to land, Alan spoke up hesitantly. "Hey, Dad? Do you think maybe . . ."

Jeff looked at him quizzically. "What, Allie?"

Alan paused.

"Go ahead," Jeff encouraged. "What's on your mind?"

Alan took a deep breath. "Do think, maybe, um, when we land, you could show me . . . Thunderbird Three?" Alan's voice was soft.

Jeff's grin was huge as he landed the jet, eyes carefully on the runway. "I think maybe I could do that."

TB TB TB TB TB

Scott was still laughing as he went down to the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee. He got distracted by Onaha's apple pie, so he was surprised that his father and Alan weren't up at the office / tower complex when he returned. Brains was fussing with the radio, so he asked. "Where are Dad and Allie? They should be up here by now. Dad, at least. He'd got all kinds of messages."

Brain's grin looked like the cat that ate the canary. Instead of replying, he just brought up the 3D schematics of the hanger complex, and pointed out the image of Thunderbird 3. In the cockpit, were two lights labelled with the Tracy names, Jeff and Alan. Scott stared for a moment, then a slow grin creased his face, and he looked at Brains, who just grinned right back at him.

The communications waiting Jefferson Tracy in his office, all marked urgent and important, backed up from his days away from his phone and business, could just wait a few more hours. He was currently engaged in something far more pressing.

**Epilogue**

A little over a week after Jeff and Alan's successful day at Ellis Island, and everybody was back home and back in routine, the usual mail run was delivered to Tracy Island from New York. Anne Marie had marked an envelope as special attention to Jeff. Inside was the current issue of Time. And on the cover was another one of their incredibly iconic pictures. One, that, like so many before, would symbolize the American way of life. This one had been captured at Ellis Island, without Jeff's knowledge.

The picture looked up towards the statue, as its main focus, and catching in the foreground, a three quarter silhouette of a man's back. He was dressed in a long wool coat, breeze blowing the hem and the silk scarf he wore, and was pointing up towards the flame of Statue of Liberty. As he pointed, his face was visible as he looked down towards a blond boy at his side, his other arm draped over the child's shoulder, as the boy gazed raptly up to where the man was pointing. The statue in front of them, loomed huge, immense and proud, against a bright, but tarnished silver, cloudy sky.

The photograph was striking, and captured an iconic image of American life. That it was clearly recognizable as self made billionaire, astronaut, and American Hero, Jefferson Tracy, with his youngest son, made the image all that more poignant and capturing of the American imagination. The picture would go onto be become one of the all time recognizable images in the American consciousness, and made the photographer's career. That and the fact that the photo included Alan, the youngest Tracy, who was generally kept out of the public eye, didn't hurt either.

But at that moment, Jeff just stared. He didn't even realize that anybody had been that close. Everything had worked just as planned, and all the attention and press was on John. Who, instead of shunning the attention, as was the norm for him, invited it in, leaving Jeff and Alan to move around freely. They had avoided attention throughout a dinner out, and a Broadway show as well. At least he thought they had.

The photographer had obviously respected their privacy, while still capturing the amazing image. Later, Jeff requested a large print for himself from the photographer, and framed it for his office on the island, along with the magazine cover. Anne Marie did the same for the Executive Foyer at Tracy Towers, and for the main lobby as well.

In addition, Jeff had a copy framed for Alan, with a happy birthday message. As the years went on, for the family, this one picture became a symbol for them of who they were, and what was most important. Family above all else.


End file.
